


What do we do now

by all-of-the-ships-are-sailing (Phandom_Doodles)



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Angst, Aversion Therapy, Biting, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Oral Sex, Self-Hatred, Sort Of, Violence, Vomiting, brief mention of underage sex, kind of, shit gets real, welcome angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 117,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phandom_Doodles/pseuds/all-of-the-ships-are-sailing
Summary: Eugene struggles to get back to the life he had before the war. Then Snafu turns up at his house in Mobile and things get even more complex. Much fluff, angst and smut to come.





	1. Chapter 1

Eugene turns his pipe over in his fingers and looks out across the front lawn view he has from his place sitting on the canopy that protrudes just underneath his bedroom window. His mind is a tornado, throwing around thoughts and memories like lumps of debris and he’s trapped with all of it, spinning out of control, unable to grab onto a single thing. His chest on the other hand is a coiled spring, growing tighter and tighter with every attempt to force something to make sense. If he can just take a hold of one thought. Just one solid thought.

His pipe.

He runs his fingers along the smooth shell, it’s familiar shape grounding him. He brings it up to his nose and breathes in the scent of tobacco and varnished wood and his breathing slows. He allows his mind to drift, gently this time, thinking back to the way everything felt as he stepped off the train and his feet met familiar ground for the first time in far too long.

The way the fresh air had knocked the wind out of him after being crammed in a little metal box for hours with a whole load of men in much the same spirit as him. His fingers had itched for his pipe then too. His feet has slugged heavily along the pavement, squashed into brand new boots and for a fleeting moment, he’d almost wished for his soaking, battered, war torn boots, that he’d grown so accustomed to. The sight of his best friend and the practiced expression that Eugene had saved for him and maybe he shouldn’t have had to put on a cover for Sid, after all, he knows what he’s been through as well as the best of them. But maybe Eugene hadn’t been quite ready to not pretend like everything was normal. Not just yet.

And so he gave him that old smirk, swung his sack a little wider over his shoulder and climbed into the car.

Eugene shifts his position on the canopy and presses the unpacked pipe to his lips, the ghost of a flavour whistling through with his intake of breath as he lets his mind wander to when he ambled towards his front door, the way he couldn’t help but imagine Deacon tearing across the lawn towards him, tail propelling him into his arms and licking his face in his excitement. But that was no longer a possibility. There was no dog there to greet him. He was alone every damn step he took towards his house.

Eugene smirks to himself bitterly and rubs at his eye, the heaviness of the last four years spreading through his chest until it becomes hard to breath again. Eugene had dreamt of that moment for so long, all those days out on the front line, wondering if he would ever get that chance again and praying with everything he had in the hope that he would make it back. Yet once the moment arrived, he’d felt only dread for the second that his parents laid eyes upon him, as though he was some kind of answer they had been waiting for. 

He’s home.

He. Is. Home.

And all he had wanted to do was step into his house on his own. Just walk through the hallway without the rush of people and the overwhelming emotions that came with them. So he’d dropped his hand and turned the handle instead. The click had echoed in his ears and made him shudder, his hand had twitched instinctively towards his pocket, where his side arm had resided for so long, the secure weight of protection that was no longer there. It had been a long time since he’d entered a building without a weapon within arms reach. Even in China they’d always had a sidearm. 

And when he had finally laid eyes on his mother, Mary, all he could think was how she looked older in some way, tired. Eugene didn’t doubt she’d been worrying for him, praying for him none stop since he’d left. He could only hope that she had forgiven him for his decision by now. Being taken into her embrace felt like a new concept. To be held by another person. Sure, he’d been bunked down and crammed so close to the other boots, in far more intimate positions than any of them ever had the right to. This wasn’t the same thing. His mothers soft hands cradling his shoulders, her warm cheek pressing against his. Those boots had never touched him like that. 

The click of a door had seen Eugene’s father stepping out from his office. He was next to him in the next second and giving him a firm handshake which had quickly become another embrace. Eugene had closed his eyes before the tears could fall.

His parents had walked him up to his bedroom as if he’d forgotten where it is. His mama didn’t seem to be able to let him out of her sight just yet. She had kept touching his arms and messing with his uniform at every given opportunity. Eugene had heard the hushed tones of his papa telling her to “give the boy some space” and “he’s goin’ to need some time to adjust.” His words had seeped into his bones and he’d wanted to snap at them not to talk about him like he wasn’t in the same damn room. He was too tired to bother though.

Eventually his papa had managed to convince Mary to come away and let Eugene be for a while and the idea of being alone had felt good. He had walked slowly around his room. It didn’t feel like his anymore. He sat on the edge of his bed, an alien feeling in comparison with where he had spent almost every night in the last few years. 

He barely spoke during his first dinner with them either. In all honesty, the fact he was eating a meal that didn’t contain a single grain of rice was too baffling to him to have thought of much else. His brother was there to join them but he seemed to understand Eugene’s need for quiet in a way that his mother clearly didn’t. He had lead the conversation, showing off one of his souvenirs from his time at the front and talking about old times. Eugene’s was thankful to him for keeping the conversation away from him. Maybe someday, Eugene would be able to use his time at war for future anecdotes at dinner parties. Today was not that day.

He’d been all but gasping by the time he’d been able to excuse himself to his bedroom, trying to ignore the concern that his mama didn’t quite manage to hide from her face. He’d paced around his room aimlessly, footsteps clicking against his wooden floor, so loud in his own ears. Feeling much too overwhelmed, that was why he had dropped to his knees by his bed, rifling around in his sack until he’d found that rectangular wooden box and why he was now sitting out on the canopy, unable to light the damn thing. 

A stiff breeze sends a shudder though his spine, pulling him from his thoughts. It’s late, he thinks. He should climb back in through his window and get himself ready for bed. He looks down at his pipe again. The itch that made him come get it is already fading before he’s even had a chance to pack it. There’s too much hanging off that pipe, it became him over there but doesn’t here. His reason for having it in the first place is a distant need and it’s over. The war is over.

He stuffs it back into the box with a bitter taste on his tongue. He’s starting to feel the pull of a deep tiredness that has not been satisfied in a long time and he retires to bed. The softness of his mattress, a luxury Eugene grew up not even considering so, it only unnerves him now.

He doesn’t know how long he’s out before his eyes snap open and he sits up, a cold sweat broken on his forehead. He tries to lick his lips but his mouth is dryer than the sandy beaches of Pavuvu and he abandons the idea of going back to sleep in favour of getting himself some water.

And when he makes his way down the stairs, he pretends not to hear his parents hushed words. They must not have heard him moving around.

"I knew this would happen."

"He just needs some time."

"...should never have let him go."

"It's only the first day."

"If he'd never gone, he would still be our boy."

"He still is."

"Don't lie to yourself!"

The floor creaks lightly as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and shit, he’d forgotten about that. Their heads snap around to look at him, his mother standing up automatically.

"Water." Is the only explanation that Eugene’s gives.

His mother approaches him and runs her hands down his arms, smoothing down his pyjama shirt.

"Get some rest, honey." She kisses him on the cheek. He quickly fetches the water and wishes them goodnight. His chest feels like lead the whole way back to his room.

His parents don’t recognise him anymore. The idea shouldn’t surprise him like it does. His mind recalls perfectly, his father’s words to him before he left. 

"I don't wanna look in your eyes some day and see no light, no spark, no life, that would break my heart.” 

Eugene could never promise that his father would never have to see that but now, after everything he’s seen, it would have been a promise he could not have even hoped to keep. He wonders, has his father’s fears come true? Just what exactly does he see in his eyes now?

His mind drifts again. He promised himself he wouldn’t think about his comrades but his mind shifts there anyway. Is it all the same for each of them? He imagines their faces, almost as clear as if they were here with him. Gunny. Burgin. De L'eau. Leyden. Shelton. The last he saw of Merriell Shelton was situated across from him on the train home, making small talk with that relaxed smirk of his. And when Eugene's eyelids had become too heavy, he’d let them drift closed for what he’d thought was only a moment. And when he had reopened them, he was alone on the train.

Eugene flips onto his side and pushes his face hard into the pillow, as if the action can rub away the sudden, all too familiar bitterness that fills him.

...

After almost a week of being home, the night terrors really kick in and each night he wakes in a blanket of sweat, often more than once. He comes to dread going to bed. Because the moment his eyes slip closed, he’s right back in the midst of hell. Running, panicking, fighting, killing, surviving, dying. Until the moments when he bolts upright, a scream hanging from his lips.

It’s over. He tells himself again and again. 

It’s over. His nerves are not as easy to convince though. And when the explosions behind his eyelids are loud enough to wake him, it’s a good few minutes before he’s aware enough to know that the Japanese aren’t pounding on his door, somehow having found his home in the middle of Alabama and coming to take their revenge for killing their comrades.

His parents say nothing about it. At breakfast, they speak of anything else, ignoring the tiredness in his eyes and the way he is often on edge and jumpy after the worst nights. He allows them to do this, knowing full well that they can hear him at night, he doesn't even try to delude himself otherwise, the state his bed is usually in when he wakes, he must be loud.

His brother talks to him and he knows their mother is behind it. He cant talk about it. Not yet. Not after he got to return home with nothing more than a handful of scars, while many of his comrades died out there, never to see their families again. Not after all the things he had done, out of fear, out of protection, out of anger, out of sheer hatred. He tries to reason with himself. He did his job but it was so much more than that, times when he had enjoyed it, feeling that deep hunger to kill as many of those fuckers as possible. Times when he couldn't have cared less if he had died, the instinct to attack and kill stronger than anything else. And what fucks him up the most isn’t the guilt. It’s that he doesn’t feel one damn ounce of it.

Some nights, he can almost here Snafu laughing at him for even thinking about it. 

“S’too late for guilt, Sledgehamma.” He hears in his own head. He can see him behind his eyelids, that self assured smirk that makes Eugene want to bite back that he don’t feel guilty at all but it’s not worth the effort. In his dream, Snafu stuffs a hand in his pocket to find smokes and Eugene hears the rattling of gold teeth in there instead.

And when his father tries to take him hunting, an outing they made many times together before Eugene enlisted, it only proves a source of pain. And for that, he feels guilty. If his father is disappointed, he masks it well and when they return home, he hands Eugene a couple of books on bird types as well as another one on the plants of Alabama.

Eugene finds himself pouring over the books in his spare time. He starts going for long walks out in the woods, over fields, anywhere his feet take him. It’s perfect when he can’t sleep. He will get himself dressed and carry his new books across the due covered fields just in time to watch the sun rise, listening to the birds chirping happily. He starts a new journal to note his findings and make small sketches of plants and flowers he recognises from the book. Sometimes he’s gone for hours at a time and he knows this bothers his mother but it’s a few days of this before she mentions anything.

"Can you make sure that you are back in time, so as not to miss dinner like you did yesterday? Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow." His mother comments that evening at dinner. The only other sounds are the clattering of metal against china while they eat.

"Is there a special occasion?" Eugene asks, only half attempting to keep the slight bite out of his voice and not answering her question. Hs father looks at him and their eyes meet but he says nothing. If there’s any sense that his father feels that Eugene is being unfair to his mother, he never voices it.

"Eddie is being promoted to supervisor at the bank." She watches him take another small forkful of food. "You know, he could probably find you a position there, if you asked him. I'm sure there would be something to interes..."

"No thanks." Eugene interrupts shortly. "I've told you, I don't want to do anything just yet."

"Yes dear, but wouldn't it be better if..." she’s interrupted again, but this time by her husband.

"Mary, leave him be, we have discussed this."

"I'm not saying he must, but just to consider it."

"He needs some time."

His mother starts to argue and it annoys Eugene enough that he’s about to intervene. He doesn’t get the chance though because then they’re all interrupted by a hard knock at the door. The room falls silent and his parents look at each other, silently questioning. His father wipes his mouth with his napkin and stands up to answer the door. They all prick their ears but cannot hear clearly enough. Almost as quickly as he left, his father returns, a strained look on his face.

"Eugene, its for you." He says uneasily. "A young man in uniform." 

Eugene frowns, glances at his mother and then stands up, walking slowly to the door. The door swings open and Eugene’s eyes go impossibly wide as they settle on the young man in his uniform.

"Evenin' Sledgehamma."

 

......

 

Eugene stares ahead of him, unblinking until it feels like he can’t even remember how to anymore.

Corporal Merriell 'Snafu' Shelton, stands on his doorstep like it’s nothing. Eugene’s eyes roam over the lithe frame of his comrade. He looks smaller somehow, uniform hanging a little looser and he seems even more scrawny than before. The skin around his eyes is darker than he remembers and he looks in some way less than himself. Even so, he’s still wearing that usual, infuriating smirk that Eugene remembers so well. 

"Evenin' Sledgehamma."

Eugene steps out of the door and pulls it almost shut behind him. “Evenin’?” Eugene gives Snafu a little shove that causes him to take one step back. "What in God’s name are you doing here?” He looks over his face, over his glazed eyes. “You drunk?" 

Snafu’s smirk doesn’t leave but it does shrink a little at Eugene’s tone. "You that surprised to see me? I would'a been here sooner but I didn't write your address down n' forgot it. Been bangin' on almost every door in the damn area, tryin' to find your house." 

Eugene hears the slur in his words clearly now and stares at him incredulously, eyes piercing his. "Surprised? I thought I'd never see you again."

Snafu averts his gaze with an unconvincing huff of a laugh, his demeanour loses its cocky edge but Eugene’s not sure if he’s glad of that or not. "So you gonna invite me in or wha'?"

"Not a chance!" Eugene snorts quickly. He pushes back in through the front door, striding back into the dining room to where his parents are watching him, clearly waiting for some kind of explanation. He grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and turns away, calling to his parents not to wait up for him and then he’s rushing out the door, ignoring the call of his mother and something about his dinner and drags Snafu along and away from his house.

Once they are out of the grounds and a decent distance away, he spins around, confronting Snafu head on and shoving him away, harder this time. "Are you fuckin' serious?" He spits.

"Careful Slim, don't gotta be so rough." Snafu half jokes. He watches Eugene carefully but hides it with another grin. "What? D'ya miss me?”

"Don't flatter yourself." Eugene snipes. Despite his jacket, the cool air prickles his skin and he turns to hide a shudder, pacing a few steps before whirling back around, furiously. "Why'd you find me? You didn’t have much to say when you left without sayin' a God damn word! What changed your mind?" 

"Don't tell me you really did miss me." Snafu tries to mock but doesn’t commit to it enough to work. Eugene wants to shove him again. "Come on, I'm here now. Show me around." 

Eugene glares at him but Snafu is not the kind of guy who cracks under an intense gaze and even through his irritation, there’s something else, an excitement there that Eugene isn’t ready to push away just yet. Snafu is here. He’s here, right in front of him and Eugene hardly dares to believe it but it doesn’t matter because he is right here.

Sighing, he gestures for Snafu to follow him and they set off walking down towards a little woodland trail. The sun is beginning to get lower in the sky and it won’t be long before night is upon them. Snafu kicks at some loose stones as he walks, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet woods.

"What'cha been doin' with yourself then, Sledgehamma?" Snafu is the first to break the silence, his eyes still aimed down at his feet as they catch lumps of dry dirt as well as the pebbles.

"Not as much as I should." Eugene answers at length. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up towards the tree tops in the direction of some birds twittering above them.

"Found yourself a job?" Snafu presses.

Still looking up, Eugene shakes his head.

"Don't know what to do with yourself, huh?" Snafu finally lifts his gaze from the ground to look in his general direction.

"What kinda job we supposed to go 'n get now?” Eugene asks quietly. After everything, the prospect of a simple day job seems too strangely ordinary. Snafu hums in response.

"Too bad killin' Japs ain't a real profession." Snafu huffs, digging into his pocket for his pack of smokes.

Eugene doesn’t laugh. Hearing Snafu talk that way, away from the battlefield, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. It seems out of place in an area as peaceful as this. He says nothing, yet Snafu seems to pick up on it and doesn’t say anything else. They walk in silence until the shaded cover of the trees opens out into a large soft field, outlined with trees, bushes and plants. The setting sun casts a deep warm hue over the world around them. The field itself acts as a bit of a hill for the town surrounding it and once they approach the centre, the view stretches out for miles around them, various roads and buildings.

"So how you holdin' up?" Snafu takes a few steps away from Eugene, pulling off his army jacket and sitting himself down onto the grass. He tosses the jacket to the side and leans back to look at the sky while they are slowly emerging into darkness. "An' no bullshit."

"Takin' it day by day." Eugene answers cryptically. He moves to sit on the grass nearby Snafu and pulls his knees up towards his chest, not laying back like Snafu is. "You been back to see your folks?"

Snafu nods shortly.

"They glad to see you back in one piece?"

"Yeah, threw me a big welcome home party an' ev'rythin'." He laughs humourlessly, as though he's been asked a ridiculous question. Eugene turns his head to face him.

"Sleepin' alright?" He presses. "'Cause, ain’t bein’ rude but you look like shit." This time Snafu's breathy chuckle is genuine. His hand roots around in his pocket for his pack of smokes again, pulling one free, he lets the box fall onto his chest and lights up his cigarette, taking a long drag before replying. 

"Barely slept a wink since I got back." He rubs at his eyes for a moment but it doesn’t seem to be only for effect. His free hand rifles through his other trouser pocket and pulls out a hip flask. He holds it up and shakes it lightly. Eugene hears the swish of the liquid inside. "Best remedy I found so far." He grins, waggling his eyebrows at Eugene. "Drink enough o' this, sometimes I pass out, which works for me. Ain't no place for me in the land of the sober." He's not as drunk as when he first arrived but Eugene can still hear it in his voice, the slur on top of his usual lazy drawl. Snafu unscrews the cap and takes a gulp before offering it to Eugene who declines. Snafu shrugs and takes another drink before closing the cap and letting it drop next to his smokes.

"You ain't found yourself a job neither?" 

Snafu shakes his head, unbuttoning his uniform shirt and raising one arm up and behind his head. "Ain't much good for anythin' and I sure as hell don't wanna be goin' to school neither." Eugene doesn’t know much about Snafu’s education history but he doesn’t press for any more information than what Snafu gives him, pretty certain that he would either evade the question or lie anyway. 

"Maybe we should just sleep here." Eugene changes the topic a little, looking out to the sky as the last of the sun disappears into the horizon line. "At least out here, I wouldn't be wakin' anyone up fuckin’ screamin'."

“Guess I don’t count as anyone.” Snafu huffs, pretending to take offence. Eugene snorts.

“Shut the fuck up, you just said you ain’t slept in weeks.”

Snafu laughs. “Yeah, well.” 

Eugene sits quietly, looking out at the scenery ahead of them, listening to Snafu sucking down the last of his smoke, crumpling it up and fingering the box for a fresh one. He lights up, takes a deep breath of it and holds it out to Eugene, shaking his out held hand when Eugene dismisses the offer until he accepts it from him. The dirty ash taste the smoke leaves in his mouth makes him miss the pure flavour of his pipe and he hands it back to Snafu, coughing. They’re silent while Snafu smokes that one too.

"You really scream?" Snafu speaks finally and it makes Eugene startle from his thoughts, having gotten used to the sound of nothing but the quiet evening air. Snafu’s voice is smaller now, unsure, almost like he’s been fighting with himself about mentioning it. Eugene assumes that is the case. "Thought maybe that was just talk old boots told ya for shits."

"If only.” Eugene mutters bitterly and let’s out a sigh. “No. The screamin' and sweatin' and cryin', that's all true." Snafu considers him while stubbing out his second smoke and lifting up his flask to uncap it again.

"You're quite the delicate flower, Sledgehamma."

"Fuck you, Snafu."

They stay out on the fields for a while longer, talking, watching the stars and enjoying the night air. Soon enough, though, Eugene knows he’s gotta get home, for fear of giving his poor mother a heart attack. He may have told them not to wait up for him, but he never actually believes for a moment that they'll listen. He awkwardly gets to his feet and walks the stiffness out of his legs, Snafu following suit a few seconds after.

"I gotta get back. My parents will be worryin', they have no idea who you even are." Eugene only half wonders if Snafu would feel bothered that he hasn’t so much as mentioned him to any of his family but he doesn’t seem to be. It’s not that Eugene hasn’t mentioned him, he hasn’t mentioned anyone he served with.

Snafu just takes a long slug from his hip flask and laughs. "I figured. The look on your papa's face, like he thought I was there to tell you we were goin' back." 

"Why _are_ you wearin' your uniform?" Eugene asks. There’s the tiniest of pauses before Snafu responds and a lock in his jaw that tells Eugene more than words can.

"What? Wanted to look smart so you'd recognise me when you answered the door." Snafu gestures down to his clothing. Eugene doesn’t voice that he notices the way Snafu evades his question. 

Eugene waves for Snafu to follow and starts off towards his way back home. Then a thought strikes him and he quirks an eyebrow in Snafu’s direction. "I never told you where I live."

"I knew it was somewhere in Mobile and I remembered your papa’s name. Only one doctor under his name around here." Snafu catches up to Eugene. "Like I said before, I forgot the address. Been wanderin' around the area a couple hours before I found your place, knockin' door to door, askin' for ya." Eugene can't help but smile at the thought. 

"Bet some of them went down a treat." He grins.

"One guy set his dog on me, I had to sit in a tree for a good while before the fucker'd leave me alone." Eugene bends forward into his laugh. "Another guy pulled a gun and threatened to shoot me a new asshole if I didn't get the fuck off his land."

"So you got some place to stay?" Eugene asks. "'Cause we got a spare bedroom and there ain't no way you will be gettin' back home tonight."

"Im good.” Snafu waves him off. “I'm holed up in that little motel just off the way. S'got a great bar by the looks of things an' I'm hopin' to catch some guys in a poker game or two."

Eugene can’t help the tiny lump of worry that bubbles in his gut. Snafu is deceptively good at poker but he’s also insanely competitive and a cocky guy when he wins, especially with a few drinks under his belt. Eugene only hopes it doesn’t come back to bite him on the ass. "So how long you plannin' on stayin'?" 

"Hadn't really thought about it." Snafu shrugs. But that doesn’t make much sense, Eugene thinks. Snafu came all this way out here with literally nothing but the clothes on his back? With no plans? No nothing? 

"Well, you got any cash on you or anythin'? Cause you can't really get by off some little bit of gamblin' money. If you need any money for food..."

"I told you, Sledgehamma, you don't gotta be worryin' about me.” Snafu says and there’s a sharpness in his tone that makes Eugene give up on the idea of finishing the sentence. “Owners lettin' me stay for free in exchange for a couple jobs he needs doin'. Even threw in a couple meals so I'm all set."

Eugene nods reluctantly, if only for the hint of warning in Snafu's voice to let it drop. "You stickin’ around for a little bit then?" 

"Well, unless you tell me to fuck off.” Snafu says, thumping Eugene lightly in the arm. His voice is too small to hold the intended humour. “Being home ain't done me a damn bit’a good."

They walk back the rest of the way in mostly silence. Snafu stops at the entrance to Eugene’s front garden and turns to look at him. Eugene feels such a mix of things, feels like there’s so many things he wants to say that not a damn one of them can make it out of his mouth. Part of him is desperate to pull him into his arms and hug him, tell Snafu how glad he is that he’s here,that it’s such a relief to be around someone who knew him over there, knows everything he’s been through and everything he’s done. The other part of his is fighting the urge to slug him in the jaw and demand an explanation for what he’s really doing here, why he’s decided to turn up now, why he left him to sleep on the fucking train without saying goodbye.

"Guess I'll see ya tomorrow, Sledgehamma." Snafu says in that small voice again but when Eugene looks up to meet his gaze, he’s wearing that smirk of him, pulling out yet another smoke and pinching it between his lips.

"You sure you know your way back to the motel?" Eugene asks, cringing at how much he suddenly sounds like his mother.

"Sure I'll figure it out." Snafu starts to back off, blowing a mouthful of smoke in Eugene’s direction as he does. "Go kick the shit outta your pillow." 

Eugene huffs But doesn’t retort. He watches Snafu until he’s out of sight and then heads back inside to where his parents are still up, waiting for him. He glances up at the clock, it’s almost ten, so he must have been out for a few hours. A few hours that had gone by like a few seconds, he thinks.

"Where have you been?" His mother asks, standing up immediately and sounding as concerned as Eugene had anticipated. 

"Just for a walk over the fields, not too far." Eugene shrugs. His father stays seated but is watching him thoughtfully. Always in the background, Eugene thinks.

"Who was that boy?" She urges, snapping his attention back to her. "He looks young."

"Mama, he's a year older than I am." Eugene sighs, shuffling his feet a little. He’s not sure why but it doesn’t feel right to tell her about him, two very different areas of his life that should never be crossing over. "Merriell Shelton, we served together on the mortar squad."

"And where's he from?" She asks encouragingly, her voice extra light and soft with him. He can see her trying to engage him in conversation, the fact that he had just told her how he and Snafu worked together was already saying more than he normally would.

"Louisiana, he...he thought he'd come visit for a little while."

"Well of course you must invite him to dinner." His mother beams, getting up, walking over to him and straightening up his shirt a bit. "We would love to meet any friends you made."

Eugene huffs lightly but says nothing. 'Friends he made' as though he had been away to summer camp. "I'm not sure, mama."

"Nonsense, ask him to join us tomorrow night, I insist." Eugene sighs but gives in and agrees. This seems to mean far too much to her for him to resist. But if he knows Snafu, he doesn't exactly come off as the kind of guy someone would want as a dinner guest.

...

 

Eugene lies in bed, glad to have something to fill his mind that isn't just the dread of falling asleep. 

Snafu is here, in Mobile. He came all the way out here...to see him? Eugene wonders if it is arrogant of him to assume that’s solely why he’s here, but really, why else would he be? But if he intended to come visit him, why didn’t he say goodbye to him on the train that day? Or had he never planned on seeing him again? That’s what Eugene had thought when he woke up to find him gone, like he was a part of Snafu’s life that he couldn’t take home with him. And really, he could understand that. But if that was ever true then what changed? What made Snafu decide to find him? Something doesn’t sit right.

Maybe it means something, he thinks. Maybe this means that he isn't the only one struggling to settle back into life at home. He always knew in the back of his mind that this must be true, that everyone who faced what he faced out there is surely going through similar turmoils. The thought is selfishly comforting to him but it feels like there is more to it with Snafu, something else going through that cryptic mind of his. Eugene has a secret idea that maybe Snafu turned up in his uniform because he doesn’t have any other clothes. Because that’s just the kind of thing a guy like him would do, throw out all his clothes because somewhere inside him, he really believed he wasn’t going to be coming back from the South Pacific. 

But they did, Eugene thinks bitterly as he tosses onto his side and punches his pillow in a rough attempt to fluff it up. They did come back and now the idiot ain’t got no fucking clothes. But despite his frustration, he can’t deny that the possibility of not returning home had crossed his own mind many times while he was out there but he never discarded his life so readily as to throw out his own belongings like he was already dead. And now...

He sighs heavily. It disturbs him to think that Snafu'd had so little faith in himself, and maybe even perhaps his comrades, that he had really considered his death imminent, no possibility of survival. He shouldn’t feel angry but he does, what he can’t tell is if that anger is really aimed at Snafu or if he’s just his outlet. Because even he’d had more faith than that, at least some speck of hope. Could Snafu have really, truly have been without hope? Snafu remains on his mind until he finally falls asleep but even then, there is a new image amongst the nightmares, a recognisable face that had not been in these dreams with him before. He no longer feels completely alone.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dinner...with your parents?" Snafu repeats sleepily the next morning. Eugene had walked up early and found the motel he was staying at. He’d waited outside until Snafu had spotted him while opening a window for a smoke. Snafu leans out of it awkwardly, propping his head up on his elbow and warping his features, other arm draping over the ledge, flicking the bits of ash from his smoke onto the ground. His hair sits in a soft mess of unruly curls on top of his head. "What am I, your new girl?"

"Don't be an asshole, they just wanna meet you." Eugene kicks at a stone on the ground, suddenly feeling silly for asking him.

Snafu tilts his head to look at him better, squinting through the brightness of the morning sunlight on his face. "But why?"

"Beats me. If they knew you, they sure as hell wouldn’t be offerin’." Eugene shrugs, tightening his lips to stop the smile trying to creep at the corners of his mouth.

“Cute.” Snafu sneers around his smoke. He is still wearing his uniform trousers but disregarded his shirt. Eugene guesses he had probably slept this way.

"You gonna come or not?” Eugene says impatiently. “Cause if you are, my parents’ll need as much time as I can give ‘em to prepare before we subject ‘em to your table manners."

Snafu sucks in a hiss and flicks the ash from the end of his smoke. "Oh man, that one stung a bit, Sledgehamma!" He smirks at the expression on Eugene's face. "Alright, alright, I’ll come for a little while but no complicated food. I had enough o' shittin' water four years straight an' only just got my gut back on track."

"I'll be sure to let 'em know." Eugene pulls an unimpressed face. "Dinner is usually served around six. You got anythin’ to wear that ain’t uniform?" Snafu only shrugs so Eugene takes it as negative. “You need somethin’ to wear, I can give you the cash-“

“I’m fine.” Snafu snaps, sitting up from the window ledge to look Eugene straight on. “I’m sortin’ the cash, just ain’t there yet. I’ll get it.”

Eugene runs a hand through his hair and averts his eyes for a moment. “Well come by early then, you can borrow somethin’ of mine for tonight.” He turns to leave.

"Over my rottin’ corpse will you see me dressin' like a little school boy." Snafu calls after him, flicking the butt of his cigarette in Eugene's general direction with a 'pfft.'

...

Despite what Snafu said, he does turn up a early but instead of knocking the door this time, Eugene is greeted with his snarky grin through his bedroom window.

"You could'a just knocked." Eugene says, exasperated, pushing his window open enough for Snafu to squeeze through. “They are expectin’ you.”

“Can’t turn up in these an’ then change can I?” Snafu bites, heaving himself through the gap and climbing down onto Eugene’s window seat.

"Think my parents ain't gonna recognise my clothes?" Snafu is still only wearing his uniform trousers. Eugene doesn't ask why he’s not wearing the shirt.

Digging around in a draw, he finds a simple blue button up shirt, some brown trousers and a navy sweater. Turning, he pushes the clothes towards Snafu who quirks an eyebrow. "You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin' me."

"What?" Eugene protests. Snafu picks through the clothes incredulously. He immediately slings the sweater back at Eugene with a ‘tsk’ and settles with the trousers and shirt. He drops his own trousers and begins changing into them.

"Guess I don't need to offer you privacy then." Eugene comments wryly.

"Privacy." Snafu snorts, stepping into the fresh trousers. "There's no part of me you ain't seen, Sledgehamma."

"True." 

Snafu instantly looks more presentable in the clean clothes, his green eyes matching beautifully with the pale blue shirt, though he refuses to button it up fully or tuck it in, much to Eugene's s frustration but there is no arguing with him. Eugene simply pushes him back towards the window, ignoring Snafu’s exaggerated huff.

A few minutes later, Eugene hears the over dramatic knock loud and clear from his room and has to smirk to himself at how much of an ass Snafu really is. His mother answers the door this time. Knowing her, Eugene guesses that she has probably been standing nearby waiting for the last half hour and a half. She gets so excited. Eugene smooths down his clothes, runs a hand through his sleek hair and then makes his way downstairs.

"Welcome." His hears his mother say, opening the door wide and gesturing for Snafu to come in. "I am Mary Sledge, Eugene's mother and you must be Mr Shelton?"

"Uh...Merriell." His eyes roam around the hallway slowly. Mary places her hands on his arms and moves him into the light. Snafu only looks a little uncomfortable at the contact.

"Let me look at you." She smoothes out the creases in his shirt from where her hands had been. "A handsome boy." She notes, looking over him. Snafu’s eyes flick to Eugene’s and he tenses under her touch. Eugene raises his eyebrows in his best expression of an apology. "A bit thin but we'll soon have you fed. Now, if you'd like to come this way." Mary all but ushers him towards the dining room. "Dinner is almost ready, would you like anything to drink?"

Eugene watches as his mother sits Snafu down and then busies herself around with the drinks. He steps up beside her and starts taking some of the glass tumblers to help her. She leans closer to him and whispers, not taking her eyes from what she is doing. "Is he wearing your clothes?"

His lack of reply is answer enough and she nods and smiles as he gives her a guilty look. "I thought I recognised them." She pushes a tray towards him for the glasses as well as a decanter. "Be a dear."

Eugene carries the drinks over to where Snafu is sitting alone at the table looking more lost than Eugene has ever seen him. He throws Eugene a look that tells him he’s gonna be paying for this later and silently pours himself a drink just as Eugene's father walks in. He greets Snafu and moves to shake his hand, at which Snafu stands up quickly to receive him. They exchange names and sit down as Mary returns and they all take a seat as the servants lay out various dishes of food.

Snafu moves to lift one of the dishes but Eugene stops him with a small clear of his throat. He looks up to where Eugene is offering him one of is hands. Eugene tries not to snort at the glare he receives before Snafu let’s go of the dish and takes his offered hand as well as Mary’s hand on his other side and they all bow their heads to say grace.

When they start to pass around the food, Eugene notices that Snafu doesn’t take much of anything but decides against mentioning anything. He can sense that Snafu is not all that comfortable here and it feels like a bad idea to risk agitating him at the moment.

"So, Merriell." Mary begins. "When exactly did you two meet?" She silences Eugene with her eyes when he opens his mouth to interrupt the question and looks back to Snafu. Snafu shifts in his seat, chews quickly and his eyes flick to Eugene again.

"A camp set up on the Island of Pavuvu." He answers around a mouthful of food.

"And where did you serve before you met Eugene." She encourages. Eugene knows she can see his glare in the side of her vision but she’s doing everything in her power to avoid looking in his direction.

"With the rest of my division in Melbourne and then...Cape Gloucester.” Snafu looks down at his plate as though it might inspire any other words. 

Eugene doesn’t know what his mother is playing at but it’s uncomfortable and far too forward. “Mama I don’t think Snafu needs to-“

"And Eugene joined your division?" She speaks before he’s finished and Eugene bites his tongue angrily. 

"Something like that." Snafu agrees and Mary nods encouragingly. Eugene’s gaze turns desperately to his father who looks back at him with an expression somewhere between apologetic and indignant.

"Did you two work together through much of the war?" She continues but Eugene has heard enough.

"Mama, can we talk about something else, please?" He says, eyeing her intently. He can feel Snafu’s eyes boring into his profile and knows he’s not impressed with the interrogation. Had he known this was what would happen, he never would have agreed to it. His father makes a small hum in agreement with Eugene and he’s pretty sure he places a hand on his wife’s knee by the way she reacts to the touch. He’s worried about her.

"What?” She finally looks in his direction but her eyes won’t meet his directly. “I'm interested to know how you became friends is all." He’s also pretty sure that they both know that isn’t the case.

"Well that parts easy." Snafu interjects before Eugene can speak any further. He speaks more forcefully and there’s a look in his eye that puts Eugene on edge. He’s annoyed, Eugene thinks, the idea making his chest burn with dread. "When you're lumped up with people with nothin’ better to do than kill as many Japs as possible, you're bound to make a few friends." He huffs a short laugh to himself but the silence that greets him make it clear that his words haven't been well received. 

"Do you have a job waiting for you back home?" This time it’s Eugene’s father’s turn to try and lighten the conversation. As indelicately as he does this, Snafu takes the bait, though it does not go anywhere that his father, or even Eugene hopes it will.

"Nah. Most places don't require Mortar men, anybody efficient at handlin' heavy explosives or people trained to kill other people." Eugene nudges his shin with his foot and shoots him a warning glare.

"I see." Mary comments quietly, glancing at her husband before continuing. "And Eugene referred to you under a different name previously. S-Snaf is it?"

"Snafu." He corrects curtly, his eyes starting to get that wild look and really, his ability to give exceptionally strong eye contact in any given situation always fascinates Eugene. Very rarely does someone not crumble underneath his harsh stare and he always appreciated that about him. But seeing it used against his own family, it’s not so impressive. "Acronym, stands for Situation Normal All Fuck-"

"Snafu!" Eugene cuts him off sharply.

"All fucked up." Snafu finishes anyway, though his words do lose some of the weight and confidence behind them and his eyes move to Eugene again. "Don't make sense without the 'U'." He shrugs.

"We...we don't swear at the dinner table." Eugene’s father states calmly, his glance in Snafu’s general direction, but also unable to look him directly in the eye. Snafu simply side eyes Eugene and the lack of even the slightest trace of guilt only irks Eugene more as he glares back. His mother is looking down at her plate.

The dinner is promptly cleared away shortly after that, the level of uncomfortableness never quite redeems itself after what Snafu said. Eugene feels like the pressure in the air is going to crush him any moment, his back physically bowing under it until he realises and straightens his posture. His mother had no right to ask those kinds of questions, and put him on the spot like that, much less while they ate dinner but there was no need for Snafu to get at her like that. He knows why Snafu did it, his mother dared to ask too much and so he gave her what she wanted. Except that he did it in his own Snafu kind of way, to take it too far and make her regret asking. And as much as it seems to have worked, looking at how uncomfortable his mother now is in her seat, it must have come with a price too. Eugene can see in his every movement that Snafu is just as desperate to get the hell out of there and it doesn’t surprise him at all when Snafu jumps up the moment the plates are cleared away.

"Thanks." Snafu says stiffly, his arm rubbing at his neck. "But I really should go." He looks to Eugene and he can’t tell if his eyes are asking him to follow or telling him not to.

"Where are you staying." Mary asks quickly.

"A little motel just down the way, it's not far."

"You're welcome to stay with us, did Eugene not tell you about the guest bedroom?" Eugene can feel the courtesy so he’s almost certain that Snafu can too. 

"He did but I'm good, thanks." He finalises and moves in the direction of the door before any more can be said. Eugene chances a look at his parents and could see his mother looks disappointed, though he doubts it has anything to do with Snafu refusing her invitation to stay.

"I'll show you out." Eugene speaks through gritted teeth and all but pushes him out the front door, following suit and closing it behind him. He’s about ready to blow and has to pull his voice back when he hisses, “The fuck was all that about?"

"What d'ya want from me?” Snafu rounds on him, eyes fixing him with a determined glare, no longer hiding the heat that, if he’s anything like Eugene, has no doubt built up in his chest. “I expected food and shitty small talk, not that...ambush I got in there!"

Eugene’s face softens, his shoulders drop and he looks away. "I know. I didn’t know she was gonna...I dunno what she was thinking."

"S’obvious if you ask me." Snafu’s voice is calmer now and he pulls out a pack of smokes and offers one to Eugene. "You ain't said a word to them about it and I don't blame ya but she obviously wants know but I ain’t what they're lookin' for." He steps closer to Eugene, lighting his smoke and moving it away from his mouth to voice the very same worry that Eugene himself had when he first came home. "I am not the goddam answer, not to her questions, not to any of the shit we had to endure." Eugene tenses his jaw and drags his eyes up to meet Snafu's gaze. He doesn’t find the sharpness he’s expecting. Instead, Snafu’s eyes roam over his face and the slight crease in the outer corners becomes one of amusement. Snafu huffs a short laugh and sways back a bit. "That evenin' was fuckin' awful." And despite himself, Eugene feels a thin smile spread across his face. 

"You've had worse." He counters.

Snafu snorts and pulls the smoke back to his mouth. "True." He agrees. "But your parents definitely hate me now." 

"They don't hate you." Eugene insists. “We were all uncomfortable in there.”

"Yeah, alright." Snafu grunts around his smoke, not sounding convinced. “Meetin' some guys for drinks and poker soon, what say you?"

“Thanks but I better not. Another time though.” Eugene excuses, gesturing back inside and then smirks. "Don't get yourself into trouble." Snafu just waves his hand to dismiss him.

"I'll be fine, they think I'm too dumb to worry about me." Snafu starts to back away clumsily. "Maybe they're right but what they don't know is I'm a dummy who’s damn good at poker." He laughs cockily as he turns and wanders off, still puffing on his smoke.

Eugene watches him leave again, wishing as he does, that he had accepted the invitation now and he sighs. His parents are still downstairs when he returns inside. He can’t hear what they’re saying but the tone of their voices suggests disagreement but they trail off when they realise he’s back. His mother immediately steps forwards.

"Eugene..." She begins but he shakes his head and jerks his hand.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He states simply and heads straight upstairs, closing himself into his bedroom. Roughly, he kicks off his shoes and starts to undress himself for bed. It’s early but he doesn’t care. He paces around the room in his usual manner, his mind alive. He throws himself down on top of his bed covers and steams in silence.

He should've known this was a bad idea. He knows exactly what Snafu is like, he knows what his parents are like too and nobody is blameless here. He knows he's been distant, he knows he hasn't said much to his parents about what happened over there but if they knew the truth, they would wish they didn't. His father understands more after working with the soldiers years ago but his mother wouldn't be able to handle knowing the things his own son had seen, the things he had endured and even more than that, the things he, himself had done. Things he is not proud of, things that were never in his nature. He can’t allow her to know that part of him. Even Sid doesn’t know that of him. The only person around who knows that side ever even existed is Snafu and he intends to keep it that way.

Eugene's eyes snap open to the sharp sound of knocking on glass. Squinting, he sits up and looks around. He must've fallen asleep amidst his thoughts, still lying on top of his covers.

Another few knocks and his eyes drift groggily to his window, now able to pinpoint the source of the sound. Confused, he stands up, wavers for a moment and makes his way to the source of the noise. He cautiously grabs the cord to the blind and pulls it up to reveal the instantly recognisable face of a particular curly haired marine. 

Eyes wide under a deep frown, he lifts the latch and as quietly as he can manage, pushes open the window, instantly gesturing to Snafu to keep quiet as soon as he notices him open his mouth to speak.

"The fuck're you doin' here?" His demand sounds weak in a sleepy whisper. Snafu smirks and leans forward, his eyes heavily hooded.

"Can’t sleep." He slurs as if it’s obvious and Eugene can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Come on, let's go somewhere." Eugene stares at him blankly and Snafu stares right back expectantly. Sighing, Eugene lifts his hand to signal Snafu to wait while he creeps up to his door. He listens for a few seconds and can hear no movement or any sign that his parents have heard anything. Quietly, he returns to his inebriated friend.

"How much you had to drink?" 

Snafu lifts a half empty bottle of what looks like whiskey into Eugene's view.

"Not nearly enough." Snafu grunts, offering him the bottle. Eugene gives him a disapproving look. Snafu shrugs, says "Suit yourself” and takes another long swig. "Now come on. Let's get outta here or I'll start singin' an’ I swear, it won’t be in key, Gene.”

The threat is enough for Eugene to quickly throw on the first sweater he can reach and follow Snafu out of the window, down onto the dew slick ground of his parents front lawn. Snafu rests one hand on his shoulder and keeps it there as they walk. Eugene assumes it’s mostly to keep him steady, not that he would ever admit to it. Snafu drags him along the same trail as the night before, heading back towards the fields. 

"What're you doin' Snaf?" Eugene questions, trying not to stumble in his attempts to keep Snafu steady. "It's much too late for this. If my parents find out..."

"What, they gonna fuckin' spank ya like a naughty little boy?" Snafu mocks. Eugene rolls his eyes and doesn’t respond.

Snafu leads him back onto the fields as if this were his damn home town but this time they continue farther along them until they come across a dip in the ground, big enough for two people to comfortably sit in. It’s surprising, when taken away from all other source of light, just how bright the moon really is. They can see almost perfectly out here.

Snafu jumps into the dip and drops down, propping himself up against the slope and turning to gesture for Eugene to follow. Sighing, he sits down, pulling his knees up towards his chest, the angle of the slope pushes him closer to Snafu and for a moment, he wonders if he were to close his eyes, if it would feel like them nights down in their fox holes. He and Snafu had often huddled down together, either to keep warm or just to have something softer to lean against that hard dirt and rocks. He doesn't test the theory.

"S'kinda nice out here." Snafu comments serenely, taking another long drink from the bottle and letting his head fall back to look out at the stars. 

"Think you've had enough." Eugene nods his head towards the bottle. Snafu holds it up to examine the amount left before offering it to him again.

"Be drinkin' less if you joined me." He shakes the bottle for emphasis. Eugene makes a face but takes the bottle, sniffing it first before taking a mouthful. He grimaces at the taste and grunts against the burn in his throat.

"The fuck is that, motor oil?" He thrusts the bottle back to Snafu who chuckles and takes another drink. He tilts his head back up at the stars and shifts so his shoulder leans against Eugene's heavily. 

"I could never really make out the stars over there, not until it was over." Snafu says and Eugene tenses, realising he’s referring to being out on the line. "Couldn't tell if they were covered by the explosions and gunfire or if there just was none."

"Something so beautiful don't belong in a place like that." Eugene replies darkly. Snafu hums quietly and lets his head fall to the side so it rests on the shoulder he was already leaning on, something he'd often done in Okinawa. They'd frequently fallen asleep like this.

Sure enough, Eugene feels Snafu’s head grow heavier as he relaxes more. It almost feels like they are back, tucked down in the muddy dips of Okinawa, but not in the kind of way that he would want to forget. There’s no fear here of being showered by mortars any possible moment. Here it’s just the two of them, surrounded by the cool night air. It’s quiet. Peaceful.

"When did you last get any real sleep, Snaf?" Eugene asks at length after some time just sitting together in calming silence. He feels Snafu jolt in an attempt to shrug against him.

"Ain't slept for long since I got back." Snafu says numbly. "Don't sleep much at all these days."

"You ever get...y'know..." Eugene hesitates for a beat. He feels Snafu's head tilt the tiniest amount, giving Eugene his focus and it pushes him enough to come out with it. "Get nightmares or flashes...from when we were over there?"

"Nah." Snafu starts dismissively but when he rolls his head right back and takes a glance at Eugene, his face straightens quickly. “No.” He speaks more seriously, tilting his head back down and handing Eugene the bottle again. "You have to sleep to get nightmares."

"You've never woke up thinkin' you're still over there?" Snafu shakes his head against his shoulder. Eugene's heart sinks a little. It’s good to hear that Snafu doesn’t experience the pure level of terror that comes with a confusion like that. But selfishly, Eugene can’t help but feel like it would feel easier if he knew Snafu was struggling with the same thing. He shakes the thought from his head, ashamed at himself.

They sit quietly for a while. Snafu starts breathing slowly and heavily and Eugene wonders if he’s fallen asleep. He doesn't dare move to check.

"Have you?" Snafu mumbles eventually, slurred words breaking through the quiet.

"Have I what?" 

"Thought you was still over there?" Eugene is certain that Snafu already knows the answer to that question but perhaps this is his attempt to encourage Eugene to talk about it. A tone in his voice disturbs him, it sounds far too much like concern.

"It's mostly just nightmares." He starts uneasily. Even to Snafu, it feels strange to voice any of this stuff after the fact. "Sometimes, it bleeds into consciousness and I can't tell what's real for a little while."

Snafu hums sadly. "All them months spent training to go to war, an' they don't teach us a damn thing about afterwards. We don't really matter to ‘em once we done fightin' for 'em."

When Eugene doesn’t say anything else, he feels Snafu settle against his shoulder again. He doesn’t know how long they stay like this but when Snafu’s breathing evens out and his weight relaxes into him harder, he can tell that he has nodded off this time. A warmth spreads through his chest at this. At least Snafu is comfortable enough here that he can settle his mind enough to sleep. And okay, maybe out here isn’t the best place they could be sleeping but after where they’ve been for the last few years, this isn’t all that strange. His eyelids start to fall heavy too and he lets himself drift into the comfort of being camped next to Snafu.

Eugene wakes first, at some point his own head had rested on top of Snafu's which is still resting on his shoulder. Eugene can feel Snafu's lithe frame against him, now certain he feels lighter than he was when they served together. He is easily wearing half the amount of gear as he had been back there though, his body feels different against him in multiple ways and Eugene wonders if it is the same for Snafu. When he finally shifts, the movement of him lifting his head immediately wakes Snafu, who squints and looks around groggily. 

"It's almost dawn." Eugene whispers, looking to the horizon where the early signs of daylight are beginning to show. "I'd better get back."

Snafu groans in protest when Eugene moves to stand up, trying to drag him up with him. Snafu staggers a little and Eugene walks stiffly for a few seconds from being in the same position, another thing the had become accustomed to during the war.

"Come on." Eugene urges gently. Snafu throws his arm over his shoulder for support, he’s in the early stages of a hangover, Eugene thinks. They amble back slowly and Eugene walks Snafu back to the motel before returning to his own home, carefully sneaking back in through his bedroom window but, knowing he would not return to sleep, kicks off his shoes and heads downstairs to get himself some water.

Apart from the lack of sleep, Snafu seems to coping very well, almost too well, Eugene thinks. He knows it has to be different for everyone. His brother had opened up to him about his own nightmares shortly after he got back, so Eugene knows he isn't entirely alone. It’s just that, his mind won’t stop revisiting the feeling that it would have comforted him more to know that Snafu understands exactly what he was going through.

Why does he feel so out of place and Snafu doesn't? Why had the effects of the war seemed to take more of a liking to him? Why is he not able to just get back to normal? He scolds himself again for the bitterness he feels burning in his gut. It’s not as if Snafu has any control over this, just as he doesn’t.

...

This bitterness does not last long, though the reason for it only leaves him feeling a lot worse and far more ashamed of himself than before. Eugene already knows that there are more than a few different ways that their time over there might’ve affected everyone. And it isn't long before he realises that, while Snafu might not be facing the same struggles that he is, that in no way meant that he isn't facing any at all.

"So, we're going...where?" Snafu makes a face while following Eugene blindly. It’s another day of bright sun and the pair walk along the street through the small town, not far from the motel Snafu is staying at.

"It's nearby where we went before, by the fields but it's on the other side and we are walking around to it."

Snafu nods his understanding. "Why are you taking me there?"

"There's a whole bunch of different wild flowers and plants, just scattering the place with colour. It's just beautiful and you should see it." Eugene slows a little so he is at Snafu's side and not rushing him so much. "Plus, I've been meaning to go down there and make some studies."

"Studies?" Snafu pushes, glancing at him sideways. He’s still kind of hungover but Eugene has watched him chain smoke through around five cigarettes in the past twenty minutes. He’d say something if it didn’t seem to be doing the trick, Snafu becoming livelier and more coherent with each one.

"Yeah, I'm putting together a journal of sorts, of all the different plants I find and trying to learn more about them." Eugene looks away as he finishes his sentence, feeling his cheeks burn a little, half expecting Snafu to laugh. If Snafu notices this, he doesn’t mention it and he doesn’t laugh either. He pulls out another pack of smokes and holds them out to Eugene who refuses. Snafu shrugs and pulls one out for himself, lighting it with the butt of his last one.

"You plan on doin' somethin' with that, once you've finish-" 

The rest of his sentence is cut off by a very sudden, ear-numbing bang that has them both flinching harshly. Eugene's head flings around, eyes scanning around for the source of the sound. He spots thick lumps of smoke pumping from the exhaust of a nearby Chevrolet. It’s backfired. Feeling his face burn for real this time at his reaction, Eugene straightens himself up and turns back to look at Snafu.

Except that where Snafu's face had previously been, it is no longer there. Eugene’s eyes trail down to his comrade and his heart sinks so hard it leaves him breathless. Snafu is crouched on the floor and breathing in heaving gulps, his outline almost blurred from trembling.

Eugene crouches down next to him, eyes wide and alarmed. "Snaf?"

He lays a hand on his shoulder but Snafu shakes him off violently, like his touch burns him. "I'm fine." 

"Snaf-"

"I said I'm fine!" Snafu snaps, trying to shove him away but only losing his balance in the attempt and having to drop his hands to the floor to stabilise himself. He is all wide eyes, a dithering chin and a deep frown that changes the dynamic of his whole face. His fingers curl into the dirt and his breathing remains in gasps even without the exertion to justify it. He recognises what’s happening pretty quickly.

A couple of young women approach, after noticing them as they walk by but Eugene quickly shoo’s them away, knowing by their faces that he was rude but in no way able to care. His mind is only on Snafu now.

"Snaf." Eugene tries again, softer this time and doesn’t touch him. "You gotta slow your breathin'. I'll count. Breathe in...two...three...four..."

Snafu does not follow Eugene's voice. Eugene is not even sure if he can hear him at all. Unsure what to do, he dares to touch his shoulder again, delicately as he can manage. Snafu startles and jumps up to his feet. 

“Don’t touch me, I said I’m fuckin’ fine!” He shoves Eugene away successfully this time. Eugene has never seen him like this before, he looks like a caught wild animal. And in a quiet place like this, it only looks more obscure.

“I wanna help.” Eugene holds up his hands. Snafu is still trembling, though he looks like this fact angers him more than anything. He grabs at his own upper arm and looks around like he’s gonna bolt. 

“I can’t...I gotta get outta here.” He gets out before hurrying off back in the direction of the motel. Eugene calls to wait and moves to catch up but immediately stops at Snafu’s sharp “no.” And instead watches him go, a sinking feeling settling upon his chest and making him uneasy.

So much for Snafu coping better than him, he thinks, bitter for a different reason this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this. Just to let you know, as this story is a part of The Pacific Big Bang, I also did a piece of animated illustration for it that contains a scene from this chapter so if you are interested, you can view that [here!!](http://scrapeourshoesonthestars.tumblr.com/post/169015519517/eugene-bolts-upright-hes-sweating-and)

A knock on his bedroom door finds Eugene’s mother bringing his best friend, Sidney Phillips up to see him, despite the fact he was still in bed just moments ago. Sid quickly explains that he’s come up to sort out suits for the wedding. Eugene looks down at his nightclothes and back to Sid with a sheepish expression but Sid just laughs. “Sleepin’ better?”

Thankfully Sid only seems to have asked him in jest and doesn’t push for a response. Apart from the fact that Eugene is in no way sleeping better, it also feels difficult to explain the nights he’s been spending dosing out in a field with another ex-marine. Sid moves over to his wardrobe and starts to look over the suits in there.

"We can buy one if we need to, I got a place that will do a deal on a set of suits for the men." Sid explains. He falls quiet but Eugene gets the sense that he wants to say something. "I did think about havin' all the guys I served with wear their uniforms. Mary thought maybe it could be nice to...y'know?"

"Uhh...yeah. It could-it could be nice." Eugene voices, his eyes focussing on looking through his clothes. Internally he’s cursing. He can feel in the way Sid’s looking at him that he’s done nothing to hide his obvious discomfort. Maybe this would have been easier if he’d just gone along with it.

"Oh, you don’t think so?" Sid asks, looking at the uniform. 

"It’s not that.” Eugene sighs, resigning himself to the idea that this conversation is going to happen. “I dunno if I can bring myself to wear it again. Of course, if that’s what you want, I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

"I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable at your best friends wedding." Sid glances sympathetically at Eugene who returns the look with a small, almost guilty smile. He’s thankful that Sid doesn't question his reasons, as he expected him to. Sid puts the uniform back neatly and straightens up. "Leave it with me and I'll let you know what we decide." 

Eugene stuffs the suits away while Sid wanders around his room. It’s strange, Sid hasn’t been in his bedroom in some years and he almost looks like he’s too big to be in here now. Eugene wonders if Sid feels the same about him. He hears a quiet wooden sound and is pulled from his thought to the image of Sid picking up the wooden box in which he keeps his pipe. Sid looks to Eugene for a moment, he assumes to see if he will protest his attempt to look at it. When Eugene says nothing, Sid opens the box and takes out the pipe gently.

"Not using the pipe no more?" He questions casually, eyes scrutinising the details of the wooden pipe.

"Tryin' to quit." Eugene replies. "Don’t feel right here. That, plus my parents seem like they ain’t too happy about it."

"Since you're father is a doctor, that don't surprise me." Sid laughs, closing the box and putting it back. "Eh, you're probably better off."

He walks over and pats Eugene's shoulder briefly. "I'm glad to see you're okay. It's strange being home after..." he trails off and shakes his head. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it."

The servants had left a plateful of sandwiches for them. Sid gratefully accepts a couple before wishing Eugene well and heading out to his car. Eugene watches him leave. He feels almost removed from Sid now, in a way that he can’t explain. They were both out there, facing the same horrors but There’s something different. Sid is getting married, he’s moving forward, he’s starting to make his life. He never talks of their time over there to him so Eugene leaves it alone too. He wonders if Sid wakes up to tears and muffled screams against his own palms in the same way that Eugene does. He also wonders if it is easier to handle with the warmth of another person holding him in love and comfort, perhaps whispering in his ear, letting him understand that it’s not real, that he’s safe. 

And there’s the bitterness, Eugene scolds himself. He’s learned not to assume anyone has anything easier or better than him just because he cant see the way in which they may be struggling to cope. Neither him nor Snafu brought up what happened when they had next spoke. As much as Eugene wanted to know how he was doing, Snafu had looked so antsy, he'd half feared he might bolt if he brought it up. So Eugene kept his curiosity to himself and Snafu soon relaxed around him again.

Eugene waits around for a few minutes before calling to his mother to tell her he’s going out for a walk. He bags up a couple of sandwiches for himself, hesitates, and then grabs a couple more, along with two apples and a bottle of water.

...

The sun sparkles blindingly through the trees as he walks, feeling the warmth on his face. Eugene heads in the direction of the house that Snafu had mentioned he was doing some work on. Some guy he met at the bar had seen the work he'd done on the motel and offered him straight up cash for some labour. At least Snafu is finding a way to get by, he thinks.

He doesn’t know how long Snafu is going to stay around here for but he refuses every time Eugene reminds him of the spare bedroom so he stops offering. He knows that Snafu is no longer at the motel, but he hasn't said where he’s staying now and Eugene doesn't ask. He has an uncomfortable feeling that it involves random women, a lot of alcohol and business that Eugene does not want to think about and he pushes it from his mind with a sinking feeling in his gut. 

He spots Snafu sitting outside the house in the sun, putting together some kind of vent attached to a large box. He is -as he often is- shirtless, sweating hard in the intense sun, with a deep frown on his face and a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His hands are filthy, clumsily focussing on his job, he does not notice Eugene straight away. With his shirt off, Eugene can tell for sure that he has lost weight. When he had fallen asleep against him over the field, he’d hoped that maybe it was just the lack of clothing now that they weren't in their protective gear, but there he is in plain sight. He looks a gaunt and drained, the circles around his wide eyes are getting darker every time Eugene sees him and he looks so vulnerable like this, almost frail. Even as relaxed as he seems, he just looks so...worn.

Eugene approaches slowly, just as a stocky looking guy walks out of the house with a lump of rag and a glass of water. He spots him immediately.

"Can I help you?" The guy asks, frowning slightly. This finally makes Snafu look up and a knowing look spreads across his eyes upon seeing Eugene. This is quickly replaced with one of his usual smirks that Eugene would never admit to having missed.

"Friend o' mine." Snafu offers as an explanation, placing the box down and taking the rag and water from the man. "You're a little early, Sledgehamma." He addresses him, gulping down the water in one shot. He sits back down and starts using the rag to wipe down the box. "I'm almost done, just gimme a minute." 

"Look at'cha, guess we'll make a workin' man o' you yet." Eugene teases, stepping closer. The stocky man grins and offered him something to drink but he waves his hand and politely declines. It isn't long before Snafu finishes cleaning the box down and heads inside to fix it to the wall.

"Thanks a bunch for that." The stocky guy tells Snafu as they walk back out of the house together. "The wife's been goin' on to me about it for weeks, she'll be glad to have it fixed. How much do I owe ya?"

Snafu works out a price with the man and also accepts a paper bag from him with a nod of thanks.

"An' don't forget. My guy's expectin' ya round later to look at his too."

"I'll get to it." Snafu promises, sauntering over to Eugene and gesturing for him to follow him. Together, they leave the man's land and wander off towards the woods again, taking a different trail this time.

"You'll get to it?" Eugene mimics inquisitively. Snafu grunts and lights himself a new cigarette, offering one to Eugene who, once again, refuses. Snafu throws out some comment about not smoking but Eugene doesn’t catch it. Snafu speaks again before he can ask him to repeat himself.

"A lot of people's air conditionin' goin' bust now the weather's gettin' hotter. Happens all the time." 

"Since when do you know how to fix it?"

Snafu laughs shortly, blowing his lungful of smoke at Eugene. "I'm not all just good looks y'know." 

They walk down to a creek, a spacious area of land, surrounded by trees and greenery. Nearby the gently running water, stands a thick branched tree, its own leaves creating a perfect shelter from the sun. Snafu helps boost Eugene up to one of the branches and passes him up all of their stuff. 

"I could eat a horse." Snafu comments, reaching his hand out for Eugene to help him up. As scrawny as Snafu is, he was never one to turn away a meal. Serving together, on those days when the battle just took that extra bit out of them, Eugene would often push away his share of the rice, unable to stomach it with his mind reeling as it often was. But not Snafu, he always had the stomach for food.

"Y'ain't gettin' a fuckin' thing with your hands like that. Go wash 'em in the creek." Eugene demands. Snafu swears at him and Eugene hears some grumbled comment that involves calling him ‘mother’ but Snafu obliges anyway. Eugene watches him rush over to the water and start picking up handfuls of pebbles and rocks, stuffing them into his pockets, making them bulge and darken where the water soaks through the material. He washes the grime and dust off his hands, returns to the tree and whistles for attention. Eugene raises his eyebrows and waits a beat, just long enough for Snafu to wonder if he’s gonna fuck around about letting him up and then he throws out a hand before he can complain.

Eugene takes Snafu's hand and pulls him up, where he clambers to a slightly higher branch. He takes the brown paper bag that guy gave to him and impales it onto a broken piece of branch further up from him and then sits himself back, still shirtless, against the trunk. If the rough bark is uncomfortable against his bare skin, he doesn’t mention it. He takes some of the rocks out of his pocket and starts throwing stones into the creek as well as aiming them at various things, other trees, a fence, he even manages to throw one into the bag that Eugene had just opened. Eugene glares up at him.

“You want me to share this with ya, or not?” Eugene asks threateningly. Snafu rolls his eyes and makes a ‘pfft’ sound as if he doesn’t care but when Eugene takes a bite from one of the sandwich halves, he leans forward and reaches out a hand in silent request. Eugene hands him one. “So how is...everything? You managing alright?”

Eugene knows he was supposed to let what happened the other day go but he can’t help wanting to ask. It wasn’t exactly the kind of incident someone should blow off like it was nothing, that is, unless that person is Snafu Shelton apparently. Snafu snorts but there’s a frown he’s trying to keep from his face. He won’t look at Eugene, keeping his eyes on his sandwich half. “All good here, Sledgehamma. Why wouldn’t I be? Sun’s out an’ we got good food.”

Shifting uneasily, Eugene tries to press further. “I meant-”

“I know what you meant.” Snafu cuts him off curtly, eyes finally shifting up to give him that damn stare. “Like I said I’m fine.” 

Eugene closes his mouth and takes Snafu’s warning to let it drop. He can feel Snafu becoming more on edge from what little he’s staid already.

"You still not found any work yet?" Snafu asks, trying to shift the focus from himself and ease the sudden uncomfortableness. He scrutinises the sandwich contents before taking a large bite. Eugene shakes his head, biting into his own sandwich with a sigh. They eat for a few minutes, the sound of gently running water and twittering birds dance around them and the warmth of the sun, even through the shade of the tree they’re in, it leaves them glowing. So peaceful and relaxing.

"Thinkin' about returnin' to school.” Eugene starts, feeling Snafu’s attention return to him immediately. “Might be a good time to learn somethin' new, y'know? Somethin' I'm interested in."

"What'ya interested in?" Snafu urges. He quickly finishes his sandwich half and proceeds to throw the smallest stones at Eugene until he gives him another one.

"I'm not sure yet." Eugene answers thoughtfully. And really, Eugene can’t even honestly say for certain that the idea of returning to school isn’t so that he can avoid looking for work for some time longer

"Sounds like a plan." Snafu jokes. "What about something nature related?" He continues, while Eugene watches a bird that lands on a much higher branch of the tree they are sitting in. "You seem to like that stuff."

Eugene hums quietly and goes back to eating. "You sleepin' any better?" He cringes inwardly at his inelegant attempt to change the subject.

"Eh." Snafu grunts, biting on his lure to talk about something else and Eugene appreciates it. He really does. "I'll figure somethin' out." 

Eugene takes out the water and washes his sandwich down before handing the bottle up to Snafu who gulps it down happily. He gropes around in the bag and pulls out the apples, lobbing one at Snafu, harder than he intended because Snafu almost falls off his branch trying to catch it and returns with a glare at Eugene, who can't stop the snort that escapes.

"S'what you get for throwing stones at me." Eugene goads.

"Fuck you, Gene." 

"No thanks." Comes the smartest retort that Eugene can muster in the moment but Snafu gives him nothing more than a snort in return and it sounds like a small victory in his own ears. "You gonna tell me what's in the bag that guy handed to you?" 

"Oh yeah." Snafu says as if he’s forgotten he had it and turns, lifting the bag from where he had impaled it. He tosses the bag to Eugene and watches him while he opens it up. Eugene pulls out a pale yellow shirt and a pair of dark grey trousers. "Guys wife got 'em but they don't fit him so she asked if I wanted 'em." He shrugs. "Better than nothin'." 

Eugene looks over the clothes until he’s distracted by a small pile of pebbles being dumped into his lap and when he looks up, it’s to see Snafu scrambling clumsily down the trunk of the tree.

"Gotta get to that other guys house. Wanna walk with?" Eugene shakes his head.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little while." He says, slotting the clothes back into the bag and returning them to Snafu. 

"Suit ya’self." Snafu says with a lazy salut. "See ya round Sledgehamma." And he wanders off back the way they came. 

Eugene watches him go and looks down at the pebbles with a small smile. He tucks one in his pocket and throws the rest of them back towards the creek.

He almost falls asleep sitting propped up in the tree, listening to the birds. Various species of all different colours land in the tree. If he keeps himself really still, he gets to watch them for a couple of minutes before they finally notice him and fly away. It’s fascinating getting to look at them closely, a much different experience than when he used to go hunting with his father. Back then there was no focus on the details of the animal, in facts it wasn’t so much a living thing as a moving target. His new appreciation for the creatures does not leave him feeling guilty for his time spent hunting them though. He sometimes feels bad that he can't bring himself to hunt anymore, something he and his father had done for years. There’s a lot of fond memories tied to hunting trips with his father and he can’t shake the feeling of letting him down in some way, no matter how understanding his father had been. 

Even so, this new hobby, choosing to study the birds rather than kill them feels good, feels right. He wishes to take no more away from nature and it’s almost like nature is giving him something in return, a peace of mind, perhaps an escape from the horrors of his past. Just as they’re about to consume his mind, his new focus takes him away, the birds, keeping him sane.

And Snafu too. His irritation at Snafu’s choice to come to him had been so short lived, he barely even remembers he felt it. He’s not even sure that’s what it was anymore, the relief of seeing him again was so strong there wasn’t much room for anything else. And now Snafu is working. He’s not just visiting, he’s earning some kind of living. Eugene tries hard not to let his mind wander too deep into what that might even mean. He doesn’t know what Snafu’s intentions are here and as foolish as he feels for letting that concern him, he can’t control it regardless.

When it starts to get cooler, and the daylight dims, he drops down stiffly from the tree and makes his way home. He’s too late for dinner but he’s not hungry anyway, though he’s sure his mother will have a word or two to say on the matter. Feeling pretty good though, he decides to stay downstairs and spend some of the evening with his parents, just talking and just for a little while, it almost feels easy, like he did back before the war, where everything was normal and comfortable. Simpler times. Happier times.

...

This feeling also does not last very long. 

Not too late, he excuses himself to his bedroom and gets himself ready to go to sleep, the deep tiredness in his shoulders pulling towards his bed welcomingly. He changes into his pyjamas, pulling out the pebble from his pocket as he does. Smiling to himself again, he places the pebble in the little wooden box that holds his pipe. Then he climbs into bed, feeling more relaxed and calm than he has in a long time. Maybe this time he will actually get some decent sleep.

He is very wrong.

This time it’s the muffled scream he lets out that wakes him up. He bolts up in his bed, tears streaming down his face, one hand over his own mouth with the other gripping at his own throat where, in his nightmare, he'd just been shot. It takes him some time to be able to organise his mind enough to get out from his tangled sheets and remove his sweat soaked pyjamas. He glances at his clock. He’s been asleep for less than an hour.

He stands at the end of his bed for some time, shivering but not from the cold. His feet won’t carry him back to the bed. His bed has become a place of fear, of terror. He feels silly in a way. Who fears their own bed? How can an act as peaceful as sleeping do nothing but strike fear and dread through him at the very thought of it? He gives up on the idea of sleep with a sigh, quietly dresses himself and slips out through his window, just like he had when Snafu had shown up at his window. He wishes that Snafu had done the same thing tonight, the man is proving to be a good escape from all of this shit.

The grass, dewy beneath his feet, silences his landing and he heads off towards the familiar trail leading him to the fields he’s walked along time and time again. This and the creek has always been a place for him where he can go to clear his mind. He never quite appreciated them as much when he was younger but now the places feel like a safe haven to him.

He wanders along the path slowly, listening to the sounds of the nocturnal wildlife, owls and grasshoppers, he even thought he spotted a fox among a group of trees. It isn't long before he can just make out the edge of the dip where he and Snafu had fallen asleep just a few nights ago. However, as he gets closer to it, a strange chill creeps along his spine. Something or someone is already occupying his little space and when he cautiously steps closer, his eyes adjust enough to make out the form in front of him.

"Snaf?" Eugene says incredulously. The lump in the dip shifts and a pair of wide eyes twinkle at him.

"The fuck are you doin' here, Sledgehamma." Comes that ever familiar sleepy drawl. Eugene can see that damn flask in his hand again.

"I could ask you the same thing." Eugene squats down, barely able to believe that he is actually in front of him. Snafu is shivering, though trying hard not to show it. He’s only wearing a button up shirt, his arms are completely bare but he’s tucked them in towards his torso and pulled his knees up to his chest, effectively curling himself into a ball to keep warm. "You try'na get fuckin' sick?" Eugene pulls off his jacket and throws it over Snafu, who makes a noise like a snarl but accepts the clothing anyway. 

"S'colder here alone.” Snafu mutters. Eugene tuts and shakes his head but steps down into the dip, swats at Snafu to shift over and tucks himself down with him. Snafu looks like he wants to nestle himself down against him but he doesn’t.

"Please tell me this is not where you've been sleeping the past few days?" Snafu’s silence is his answer and Eugene sighs. “Snaf-”

"Closest thing to sleep I've had in ages." Snafu grumbles, rubbing his arms with his hands. He gives in and leans into Eugene, who is still warm from his walk. Eugene suppresses the sudden urge to hold him closer.

"Fuckin' idiot." Eugene remarks fondly. Snafu just butts him with his head. "Y'know it's much warmer at my folks house. Got a bed and everythin'."

"So you keep tellin' me." Snafu retorts quietly but there’s no real life in his words, he sounds half asleep already. The lack of sleep really feels like it’s making Snafu fade away as each day passes, no matter how much he tries to act like everything is fine to Eugene’s face, some stuff he just can't hide, certainly not when he’s drunk. It’s a different experience to Eugene's own but it parallels it almost too perfectly. Eugene is too scared to go to sleep most nights and Snafu can’t sleep at all. "It's so bad, I think I'd try anythin'."

"The offer is always gonna be there, Snaf." Eugene promises. "Though I wish you'd make up your damn mind, I'm startin' to feel the bite out here too."

"It won’t work, Gene." Snafu tells him. "At the motel, I just lay awake listenin' to all the people drinkin' and dancin' until I thought fuck it and joined 'em."

"Maybe not but at least you won’t freeze your ass off, now come on, you stubborn bastard." Eugene nudges Snafu and stands up. Snafu groans in protest but slowly follows him. Eugene is relieved that Snafu relented but he can’t stop the worry coiling in his chest by how easily Snafu has given in to coming home with him. He’d been so adamant that he wasn’t going to before.

"I ain’t sleepin' in any spare room. What was it, your brothers?" Snafu says, lighting up a smoke. Eugene watches him and nods. Snafu shakes his head. "Not a fuckin' chance."

Eugene starts to protest but gives up knowing he won’t change his mind. "It don't matter, I got spare blankets, take my bed an' I'll sleep on the floor."

"Not doin' that either, boo." Snafu insists, pausing to blow the smoke from his lungs. "Ain't takin' your bed from ya."

"Then you can sleep on the floor." Eugene offers, irritation flavouring his tone. Snafu scoffs, sounding amused but he stops being awkward, and they soon reach Eugene's front garden, creeping around the side, to climb in through his bedroom window again.

He turns on the light to rummage around in his draws for the spare blankets while Snafu snoops around his room. Eugene can hear him messing around at his desk and rolls his eyes at the sound of Snafu knocking something over. When he lifts his head up, Snafu is flicking through his journal which is laying open.

"Do you mind?" 

"Still writin' Sledgehamma?" Snafu smirks like he’s amused but his tone sounds more fascinated than Eugene thinks he intended. Eugene approaches him and shoves an armful of blankets and a pillow into his arms. Snafu snorts but lays the blankets out on the floor next to the bed while Eugene flicks through his wardrobe to find Snafu a clean set of pyjamas. Snafu eyes them before dismissing them with a 'pfft' sound and strips down to his trousers. Eugene shrugs and turns the light off, ambling towards his bed to throw himself down on it. He can hear Snafu shifting around with the blankets, trying to get comfortable.

"Ain't gonna work y'know." Snafu warns stubbornly.

"Not if you keep openin' that big mouth, it won't." A huff is the only response followed by the sound of more shifting around and finally settling into quietness. Even when he isn't making any noise, Eugene is still so completely _aware_ of the fact that someone else is in the room with him. He can sense Snafu’s presence and he can’t help but feel comforted by it. His breathing soon falls even and his eyes fell heavy again.

...

Eugene bolts upright. He’s sweating and shivering, his ears still ringing from the ghost of gunfire. He’s not screaming this time but there are tears in his eyes and his blankets are tangled tightly around his legs.

“You talk in your sleep.” He startles at the voice coming from the direction of his bedroom window. He focuses his eyes carefully and the last haze of his nightmare seeps away, replaced by the shape of Snafu. He’s sitting on the window seat, lit up by the moonlight coming through the window, wearing trousers but no shirt with a cigarette between his fingers, being careful to flick every bit of ash outside. “Nothin’ interestin’…mostly jibberish.”

“You’re watching’ me sleep?” Eugene shifts his weight onto one arm and uses the other one to wipe away the wetness from his eyes, suddenly feel exposed. "Thanks for wakin' me.” He doesn’t mean to be sarcastic but his mind is still whirling, trying to process too much at once from having just woken up. “You should be sleepin'."

"I told ya it wouldn't work, princess.” Snafu shrugs. He moves his hand when he talks, the smoke from his cigarette peppering the air in front of him until he scatters it away with another exhale, blowing out more smoke which also dances under the outside moonlight. “I drifted for a little while. Better than nothin' right?" 

Eugene rubs a hand over his face. He doesn’t know what time it is but it must still be late because daylight hasn’t even started to creep into view yet. He clambers to the end of his bed and pads over to the window. Snafu turns, moving his feet off the seat so that Eugene can join him. Snafu takes a last drag and throws the butt of his cigarette out of the window, closing it quietly. 

“I snuck out the house.” Snafu starts, letting his head fall back to rest against the window he’s just closed. Eugene turns his head to watch him while he continues. “When I was a kid. Any chance I got.” Eugene sees his hand twitch towards his pocket again, yearning for another smoke. Snafu must think better of it thought because he stops and plays with his hands instead. “This one time, I snuck into a movie theatre, didn’t even know what movie was playin’, didn’t care.”

Eugene hums. This is so Snafu, he can picture it with no effort. A small, curly haired boy, sneaking out from his house on the bayou, finding his way into the town to see what kind of trouble he can get himself into. He smiles at the thought.

“It was about some guy, wants to get this girl he likes to marry him so he gets help from this voodoo guy. Fuckin’ guy gives him some potion to kill the girl an’ then bring her back...only...changed, so she will do what he wants. Anyway, they do it but she’s all...lifeless. She just fuckin’ stares at shit, don’t speak but she does everythin’ he says. Like, she’s dead but she still moves around and shit...fucked me up, it did.”

Eugene frowns. “Weren’t you a little young to be seein’ that?”

Snafu huffs and waves his hand passively. “Used ta get scared someone’d do that to me, turn me into a lifeless shell like that. Took me ‘til now ya realise it weren’t ever some _one_ I needed ta worry about so much as some _thing.”_

Of course, Eugene thinks. Because while someone could never actually do that to him, something certainly could. The war. “I’m sorry, Snaf.”

Snafu makes a ‘pfft’ sound at that and this time he does pull out his smokes. “Is what it is.”

“Well what happened, how did it end?”

“Dunno.” Snafu shrugs. “Some lady came in, saw me an’ kicked me out before I could see the end.”

Eugene smiles in amusement. “You get caught?” 

“Yeah, papa was waitin’ for me when I got home. Beat my ass so hard, I couldn’t sit for a week.” Snafu only laughs dryly at the look on Eugene’s face. Eugene looks away uneasily, not sure he wants to hear more about that just yet. Snafu’d talked about his asshole of a father a few times while they served together and Eugene had always had a secret idea that he’d been violent towards Snafu but he’d never just outright said it like that before. Hearing him say it so plainly, in an almost nonchalant tone just makes it a little too real for a moment. Snafu never mentions his mother and Eugene doesn’t ask. It’s fine though because Snafu doesn’t seem to be willing to elaborate anymore than this.

"I don't know how to help you." Eugene says, playing with his hands too. “To sleep, I mean.” Snafu leans into him and nudges him with his shoulder.

"Guess we about as much use to each other as a coal fire on a summers day." He tries, tilting his head to watch Eugene’s reaction, smirking when he earns a smile from him. "I don't need help, I just need some fuckin’ sleep.” He trails off for a few seconds. "What were you dreamin' about?"

"What I always dream about these days. Explosions, guns, Japs and death." Eugene sighs and rubs his face sleepily with the backs of his hands. Snafu watches him carefully.

"Go back to bed. At least one of us should get some decent sleep." He nudges Eugene again. "Go on."

"You should too." Eugene pleads, letting his head drop against Snafu’s for a moment, the soft curls of Snafu’s hair tickling his cheek.

"Maybe in a little while." He compromises, sitting back up straight. They look at each other in silence, Snafu's tired eyes map their way across Eugene's face and the smallest of smiles creeps across his mouth, the kind of smile he wouldn't notice if he didn’t look for it. Eugene stares back at him for a few more seconds before nodding and getting up to go back to his bed.

"And stop watchin' me sleep!" 

Snafu's reply is no more than an amused hum. Sledge throws a pillow at him.

The next time he opens his eyes, daylight is peering in through the window and Snafu is nowhere to be seen.


	4. Chapter 4

Snafu is already gone when morning arrives. Eugene tidy’s up the sheets off the floor and tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. Snafu had to leave early, he reasons with himself. Were his parents to walk in, he’d have some explaining to do. Even with the effort, it’s been no use in helping Snafu to sleep. He managed to sleep that night in the field, huddled down with him and it had made Eugene wonder if maybe it had been him, if Snafu could get comfortable enough around him to truly relax. Apparently not, he thinks sadly.

A trip downstairs leaves him standing in front of the dining room table, staring at the huge platefuls of food that have been left for him to help himself too. He’s fairly certain that his mother does not know that the servants are feeding an extra person but seems to be under the impression that his own appetite is spiking in a way that satisfies her enough not to question it. He takes no time in stuffing tubs with a generous helping of the food, sealing it all in a hamper to take out with him.

"Where is it you're hurrying off to this time?" A warm voice coming from behind him makes him start. Eugene turns quickly on the spot. His mother appears to have discovered a worryingly cat-like ability for walking around soundlessly.

"Mama." He pulls out one of the books his father gave to him from his satchel and shows it to her. Making the effort to show her this is his own weak attempt to keep her happy but from the look on her face, it’s working. "I found this area with different flowers and I’m gonna try and identify them."

"That's wonderful." She looks over the book. "And is this something that you're interested in?" He nods. "Good, you never know, maybe this will lead to something." She looks at him, hopefully and he hates it.

"Mama, it's just flowers..." He starts but trails off with a sigh. "We'll see." He takes his book back, picks up the hamper, kisses his mother on the cheek and walks out the door, promising not to be back too late but he knows she no longer believes him when he says it. It’s becoming an increasing familiarity to find Eugene to be gone for ages, returning long after the light of the day expires. Especially when his time away from home involves Snafu Shelton.

As he strolls down the all too familiar little trail leading to the fields, he thinks about his dear mother. The mother who he knows had been so desperately disappointed when his father had told her of his wish to enlist. The mother who is so clearly praying for her boy to be able to return to his sweet, youthful self, the Eugene she had raised to be kind and loving, the one who had barely seen a fight, never mind a war.

What she doesn't seem to understand is that her young innocent boy had started fading away the very day, the very _moment_ he set foot on the grounds of Peleliu beach. And perhaps she senses something he can't, a whisper of the boy she once knew, just enough of a glimmer to keep her hopeful. But he is not hopeful. It hurts to see the pain in her face every time he fails to open up to her but she needs to understand, to mourn the loss of that innocent child and accept her son for the man he has become.

And then there’s Snafu. There’s always Snafu. As much as he tries to argue it with him, he can’t truly deny his parents are not happy about his interactions with Snafu, particularly his mother. It’s why he feels the need to lie about the fact he’s meeting him more often than they’re aware. And it doesn't surprise him that they don't approve, not really. He supposes, from his mother’s perspective, Snafu is tying him to a past filled with pain and fear, that she wants so hard for him to forget, as though it were possible.

In all truth, and a fact that his mother will never understand, Snafu is just about the only thing keeping him sane right now, giving him something to think about that actually has nothing to do with the war. He’d be no better off without him around, sitting in his bedroom, contemplating the fact that he’s sitting there, after everything he went through, he’s here, alive and with barely a scratch on his physical self. He’d quickly dissolve into madness, were he left to exist like that and Snafu pulls his mind away from all that. He wishes his mother could just see it.

...

Eugene glances across the field at Snafu, exhausted and with a belly full of fresh food, lounging lazily on the grass. The sun dances over his bare torso as he stretches out like a cat on a roof top. Eugene smiles. At least he’s able to relax like this. Snafu’s been asleep the past couple of times that he has returned to him.

Eugene wanders around, examining the various wild flowers he doesn't recognise, drawing quick sketches of them and writing short notes. He picks a few of each flower, one to press into his sketch book for keeping and the others to slot into Snafu's dark curly hair. When he realised that Snafu was actually managing to fall asleep, even for minutes at a time, he immediately offered to leave him alone and stop with the flowers but as much as Snafu mocked him, he refused to have it any other way and insisted that Eugene continue. Snafu still swats at him playfully, every now and then in the same way that a cat would swat at a fly, but otherwise makes no effort to stop him from his fun so Eugene continues.

And really, Eugene can only be glad. Snafu is looking very relaxed, very sleepy and very colourful. Eugene had even put a couple of flowers in his own hair, but they don't stay in his straight hair as successfully, especially with him moving around so he mostly focusses on Snafu. He loves how beautifully they decorate him, complementing his hair colour and skin tone. Snafu's eyes remain closed while Eugene comes back and forth with new flowers to slot into his hair. He tries not to walk back too frequently, instead focussing on the flowers before he walking back up to add to his decoration. He even takes a quick walk down to the creek, looking for a particular flower he has only ever spotted around there.

"Run outta room yet?" This time when Eugene returns, armed with five different types of flower, Snafu is sitting up, throwing grapes in the air and attempting to catch them in his mouth. Eugene eyes a couple of flowers that have fallen from Snafu’s hair and tuts, kneeling down next to him and uses one hand gently under Snafu's jaw to tilt his head while the other hand hooks the thin stems into his soft curls. So lost in his focus, he doesn’t realise how close their faces actually are, close enough for their noses to almost brush, close enough that Eugene can feel his breath on his face, can smell the grapes that Snafu continues to pop into his mouth. He even presses a couple to Eugene’s lips, which he accepts with a distracted laugh. 

Being this close, this physically close to another person, would typically make them feel uncomfortable. But Eugene feels closer to Snafu than his own family. There is no such thing as personal space in war and he had spent more time in this kind of closeness with him than any other person in his life and it couldn't have bothered him less if he tried. He can only assume that it’s the same for Snafu since he makes no comment or do anything to suggest that he wants him to move away. If anything, Snafu seems to lean into the touch ever so slightly, almost unconsciously.

"Hold still." Eugene instructs, tilting the head in his hand to the side for a better angle. "And save me some grapes."

He feels Snafu’s laugh wash over his face and accepts another grape into his mouth when he’s offered one.

"You finished yet? Think I have more flowers than hair." 

"Yeah but it looks so..." Eugene counters thoughtfully. He sits back, admiring the result of his efforts. "Beautiful." He finishes.

"Oh well...I do try." Snafu lowers his eyes and feigns bashfulness.

"I mean the flowers." Eugene bites playfully.

"Well, of course you did." Snafu pulls the remaining flower from Eugene’s hands, a peculiar little white flower with only three petals. "Not gonna add this to the collection?" He asks, gesturing to his hair.

"Sagittaria Lancifolia." Eugene tells him. "I spotted it before, when we were down at the creek, near the water. Know what it's name means?"

Snafu just raises his eyebrows. Eugene guesses he’s probably not truly all that interested but he appreciates Snafu for at least feigning it for him.

"It means Duck Potato." He goes on with a chuckle. "Ain't a clue why, especially for such a delicate little flower." He picks it up and looks at it closer for a few seconds before realising he has become distracted again and blushes. He opens up the hamper and grabs himself some food while sitting with his notes in his lap, flicking through the pages with the excitement of a child reading their favourite book. He can feel Snafu watching him for a while. Eugene doesn’t mind, it’s not long before he lays back down and throws an arm over his eyes anyway.

"Hey, Snaf?" Eugene breaks the long and comfortable silence. Snafu merely grunts sleepily in acknowledgement. "Know what kinda bird this is? I saw it earlier but can’t find a match in this book." 

"You're joking' right?" Snafu huffs but lifts himself up to look at Eugene’s sketch none the less.

“It had this little patch of feathers sticking up from its head but I don't think it was a Blue Joy. That's the only bird in this book who's feathers do something like that but the tuft is too far back...I can't place it." Eugene puzzles.

"Maybe try a different book?" Snafu suggests helplessly. "Dunno the first thing 'bout birds, Cher." 

"Papa might know, I'll have to try him later." Eugene shuts the book and puts all his stuff away. He drags the hamper closer to him so he can rifle through the various food he brought with him. Snafu goes back to lying down, one arm back over his face to shade his eyes. While he eats, Eugene hears Snafu's breathing deepen and even out. And really, that had been the point of this. Snafu is able to sleep a little when he’s outdoors, which after almost four years of sleeping outdoors, is understandable. Snafu also seems to be comfortable enough to Sleep around Eugene still and it makes him wonder if there’s a way he might be able to get Snafu to be able to sleep indoors. He had hoped that having Snafu stay in his room might have been enough. What more can he do? What more will it take?

Eugene spots Snafu twitch and mumble a couple of times but nothing like he knows he does. Snafu doesn't have the night terrors like he him. It’s an observation now, the bitterness Eugene had felt about this had faded fucking quickly the day that damn car backfired. Eugene may experience nothing but pure terror when he’s asleep but once he’s awake, the terror fades away. How is snafu supposed to escape his own terror when he’s already awake?

He watches Snafu for a little while, journal laying forgotten in his lap. Snafu had watched him sleep so it only seems fair he show him the same curtesy. He can't see his eyes with his arm covering them but as he lays back himself, he keeps his eyes on him and follows the curves of Snafu's profile with his eyes. The soft point of his nose which Eugene can see just under his forearm. His thick upper lip, far more prominent than the bottom one which gives him a kind of permanent pout. His small chin but exceedingly sharp jawline and strong neck. Eugene's eyes trace the soft curves of his chest, leading into his flat abdomen and dipping into his navel. Just below that begins the faintest trace of hair, leading down to where the rim of his trousers shields further details. 

Eugene’s eyes glide back up to his face and stop at his hair, almost glittering with the delicate little flowers. He smiles to himself. If the rest of K company could see Snafu now, though Eugene is almost certain that Snafu would have never allowed him to put them there in the first place if he thought anyone would see. His chest swells at the thought. He can’t help but wish that other people knew this Snafu, his Snafu. He might not the easiest personality to break through but people have to earn the right to meet this Snafu. Not many people seem to have the patience, Eugene thinks. Laying out in front of him right now, under the hazy warmth of the sun, so relaxed and peaceful, there isn’t a more gentle thing in Eugene’s world right now.

 

...

A mortar hits just to his left. Eugene flinches hard and scrambles to keep moving. The Japs will be on him any minute, the attack came out of nowhere. His eyes dart around for any sign of his company but there is nothing. A flash of someone running past him but before he can make out who it is, they take a direct mortar hit and are blasted into nothing. Eugene can't help the scream of panic he lets out while he continues to try and move but his legs are feeling heavier and heavier, going numb. He can barely move. He tries using his hands to claw his way through the mud but it’s no use, they’re nearly here, they’re going to get him.

Suddenly, a face he recognises, running towards him. Snafu’s come back to get him. His heart leaps at that but the relief immediately turns to terror when he realises that Snafu is too late, the Japs are there. He sees Snafu's eyes turn wide and he doesn't even have time to raise his gun before they mow him down.

"SNAF!" Eugene screams as his friend falls and is washed away in a wave of their enemies. He has no more time to dwell because then they’re on him. A Japanese soldier flips him over and attempts to thrust him with his blade. Eugene manages to block it, grabbing his enemies wrist and trying to twist it but he can’t get leverage from this position. The soldier is yelling something at him he can't understand.

"Get off me!" He screeches as if he might listen, thrashing desperately to throw the man off him. He panics more when he catches the sound of a word he recognises. And when the soldier shouts it again, he cannot mistake it.

 _It’s his own name._

"How do you know my name?" He demands, trying to grab at his throat but the soldier pins his hands down and yells in his face again. 

"Eugene!" He shouts again. "Eugene!"

"How do you know my name?" He screams a second time. How could he possibly have found out? Snafu had been right, he should have never written stuff down, he must have read it. But...he can't have, Eugene never wrote his own name, why would he? 

"Eugene, goddammit, stop!" What? Eugene thrashes wildly and manages to slip one arm from out of the soldiers grip. He immediately balls his hand into a fist and throws it at the soldier with all the strength he can find, connecting with his mouth and throwing him off him. He heaves his weight so he can get to his feet, fully intending to end this bastards life but as the soldier tumbles away from him, his eyes flash to Eugene and the look he send him make him pause. There’s something in his eyes, a look he has seen before. _He knows those eyes._

"Oh my God!" Eugene exclaims as he places it, why the soldier looks so familiar. He could recognise those wide eyes anywhere.

"Fuck! Eugene stop, it's me." The mud disappears from around his feet, the dark sky melts into a brilliant daylight and loads of _tiny flowers_ dance around him like butterflies in the light breeze.

"Oh my God." He says again. "Snafu."

"Merde!" Snafu continues to scramble away from him as he gets to his feet. Eugene’s head is spinning madly, blood gushing so fast in his ears, he can barely hear anything else. It was a dream, another one of his fucking night terrors. 

"Oh-oh God What did I-fuck, Snaf." Snafu's reply is muffled by the hand cupped over his own mouth and he pulls it away enough to speak more clearly.

"Tell me you're awake, Gene." Snafu demands, the hand not by his mouth is baring his palm to Eugene in a surrendering gesture. Eugene nods quickly and takes a step forward but Snafu moves back, his eyes wary. "Then who and where are we?"

"Seriously?" Eugene asks incredulously, fighting the urge to keep trying to approach him.

"Tell me!" Snafu snaps and Eugene stops, taken aback by his tone. He’s heard Snafu sound like this before but never with him. He almost sounds scared of him. It almost feels ridiculous with the flowers still hanging and falling from Snafu’s hair with each new breeze but Eugene bares his own palms to him anyway.

"I'm, Eugene, you're Snafu, we're in the middle of a fuckin' field. For God's sake, Snaf, I'm awake." Eugene holds eye contact as best he can, trying to ignore his racing mind to focus on Snafu. 

Snafu keeps watching at him for what feels like ages, breathing hard before he finally nods his head in acceptance and slowly relaxes his stance, dropping his hand and going back to messing with his mouth. Eugene’s head clears enough for him to finally notice the blood starting to run down Snafu’s chin. He hit him. He actually hit him.

"Fuck" Snafu paces around in obvious pain, dabbing his lip with his fingers and bringing them down so he can look. "You got one helluva mean swing, Sledgehamma."

"Here." Eugene approaches him and places a hand on his shoulder to face him. Snafu shrugs him off in a movement he’d never admit to being a flinch. "Lemme look at it." Eugene requests gently and Snafu sighs but relents, turning and removing his hand so Eugene can measure the damage. It’s only as he does this that he notices the dull ache in his knuckles from where he had hit him.

"Gonna be sore in the mornin' huh?" Snafu tries to joke but Eugene doesn't feel like laughing. He examines his lip, placing a hand on the side of Snafu's face and using his thumb to move his lip around and see how bad the cut is. It’s hard to tell with the blood dribbling down his chin, some even dripping down onto his chest. He pulls a little more and just to the right, he spots where he has split Snafu's bottom lip as it parts with his touch. Snafu pulls away with a sharp hiss.

"It won't need stitches." Eugene tells him, still feeling worse by the second. "My god Snaf, I'm so sorry." Snafu waves him off.

"Shouldn’a woke you up so rough." He says dryly. He takes his hip flask from his pocket and holds it up. "Couple gulps of this’n I'll be good as new."

"Maybe my father should look at it, just in case.” Snafu slugs down a large amount of whatever is in his flask and grimaces. It’s surely stinging his lip.

"An’ how you gonna explain that one? They don’t like me bein’ round you, what’ll they have to say now?." Snafu says shortly. "An’ don't bother denyin' it, I ain't that fuckin' dumb, Cher." He butts in when Eugene opens his mouth to argue.

"At least let me clean it up, alright? I know where he keeps all the stuff. Come on." He doesn't give Snafu the choice to decline, just quickly gathers up the hamper and starts off towards his house. Snafu doesn’t follow him immediately but then Eugene hears him sigh dramatically and catch up to him. They manage to find something akin to a cloth in the hamper that Snafu holds over his lip to help stop the bleeding.

"And my parents don't hate you." Eugene says pointedly.

"Ain’t said' they do." Snafu counters from under the bunched up rag. "Said they don't like me bein' around you."

"Good thing it ain’t their choice then, ain't it?" Eugene quips, irritated. He’s glad when Snafu doesn’t counter again.

Both his parents are in the back yard when Eugene and Snafu reach his house. He leads Snafu straight through to his fathers office. Pushing Snafu towards his fathers desk and making him sit on it, Eugene removes the rag to examine his lip, now starting to swell. Most of the blood on his chin and chest has dried. He tuts and rifles around in one of his father’s cabinets for some fresh cotton rag and a bottle of alcohol, pours it onto the cotton and brings it up to Snafu's mouth.

"Gonna sting a bit." He warns. Snafu snorts and starts to mumble something about having just served in a war but stops with a stunted hiss when the alcohol makes contact with his cut.

"The fuck is that, acid?" He snaps, pulling his head away instinctively and Eugene has to take his jaw into his free hand to keep him still.

"Hold still, I'm only cleaning it." He feels Snafu sigh against him but then relaxes his jaw and his mouth falls open slightly so Eugene can clean it better. He dabs carefully at his lip, feeling guilty as ever. It’s his fault, he’s the reason Snafu is bleeding and he bites at his lip with the shame. He can feel Snafu’s eyes on his face and it makes him feel suddenly self conscious. Their eyes meet once and Eugene is almost certain the burn in his cheeks will be noticeable against his pale skin. He picks up the pace and stares determinedly at Snafu’s lip until he’s finished. He tips some more alcohol on the red tinted cotton and moves down to his chest to gently scrub away the dried blood. Snafu leans back onto his hands and parts his legs more to accommodate him. Eugene doesn’t really need to move into the space but he does, against his better judgement. He spots Snafu’s lip quirk into a small smile but he still refuses to meet his eyes, instead focussing on cleaning his chest and definitely ignoring the way his own thighs brush against Snafu’s inner thighs.

He moves away quickly when Snafu’s chest is clean, feeling unnaturally warm and suffocated in his own clothes. He throws away the cotton, returns the alcohol to the cabinet. Snafu is still leaning against the desk, looking down over his own bare torso, his tongue darting out to flick against his cut lip, mindlessly. Quietly, Eugene takes Snafu’s arm and leads him out of the office and up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. It's not that he’s hiding him from his parents but Snafu made a valid point back on the field, he does not want to have to explain his lip.

Eugene walks across the hall and into the bathroom. He starts to run a bath and rummages through the cupboard, pulling out a spare towel. Turning, he hands it to Snafu, who raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"Get yourself a bath." Eugene tells him. "What's it been, like a week since you had one?"

He shouldn’t really attempt humour, feeling as shitty as he does but Snafu seems to realise he’s joking and makes a crude hand gesture to him in return. He moves further into the room so Eugene can leave and pull the door shut.

"An’ make it quick." Eugene hisses after him. 

He waits by the window of his parents bedroom, overlooking their back yard. Both of his parents are out there gardening. He wonders what they’d think if they knew about what happened today. His father would likely tell him that he knew this would happen and that it is all just as he’d feared. His mother would probably think he’s finally gone insane. But fuck, Eugene thinks, how does he know that he hasn’t? He attacked Snafu, physically harmed him, unable to stop himself because he wasn’t even conscious. It’s not even within his own power to control that.

He hears the distant sound of running water and Snafu moving around in the bathroom. Snafu seems to be genuinely unfazed by what happened but why would he be? If this were the other way around and Snafu had been the one to hit him while he slept, would Eugene find it as easily to wave off?

 _Yes._ The word flashes into his mind before he can stop it and he shoves it away with the same haste in which it had invoked itself upon him. Because that’s not the same, he didn’t get hit, Snafu’s not the one feeling guilty as hell about this.

The sound of the bathroom door clicks open and Eugene leaves the room to find a fresher looking Snafu emerging with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Fat beads of water drip from dark, heavy curls onto his neck and run down his chest. A small sound of someone clearing their throat and Eugene looks up to Snafu’s face to see that all too familiar shit eating grin.

“Somethin’ interetsin’ down there, Sledgehamma’?” Eugene scowls past deeply burning cheeks and ushers him into his bedroom.

Snafu sits down on the bed while Eugene finds some fresh clothes for him. He pointedly keeps his eyes from Snafu’s direction, when in his peripheral, he notices Snafu leaning back onto the bed, watching him and letting his legs part, just a little. Eugene isn’t sure if Snafu was preparing for some further comment, intent on embarrassing him and had Eugene looked his, way, he’s pretty sure he would have. But Eugene doesn’t look and Snafu doesn’t speak, he doesn’t change his damn position though either. “Where are the other clothes you got?”

He hears the sound of Snafu’s bare foot tapping softly against the wood floor. “Guy at that motel gave me a free room for the work I done for him, I told ya.”

“But you haven’t stayed at that hotel in what, days?” Eugene frowns, pulling out some brown trousers and a beige shirt, finally turning to face Snafu.

“Room’s still mine for now.” Snafu shrugs and runs fingers through his wet hair. He stands up and accepts the fresh clothes anyway, Eugene even manages to find some brand new underwear which he gives to him too. Snafu reuses the socks he had before and shoves his shoes to the end of Eugene’s bed for now.

Eugene sits on the edge of the bed while Snafu dresses himself. He’s right where Snafu had just been sitting and his covers feel a little damp. "I can't believe I hit you." He goes on. "I'm so, so sorry Snaf." He leans forward and rubs his hands over his face. Even with the sleep he got earlier, his eyes feel so damn dry and sore.

"Come on, Cher, it ain’t nothin' to be distraught about, you got me fuckin’ good." His tone is playful but Eugene is certain that if he looked up, it would be to a face full of concern. "Ain't no Japs ever got a swing on me that good in the whole damn war.”

Eugene’s head is still in his hands when he feels the bed dip. Snafu is sitting next to him. He feels him lean against him a little and he automatically leans back into it. Maybe it shouldn’t make him feel better but it does.

“Your dream, the nightmare you were havin’.” Snafu speaks so softly to him, his face tilting towards him and Eugene breathes in. Snafu smells like soap. “What were you...you said my name.”

Flashes of his nightmare flicker across Eugene’s mind. "Usually..." Eugene starts slowly, rubbing his eyes harder, until white dots appear in the back of his vision. "Usually the people in my dreams are just blurred faces, one no different from the next. The Japs were raidin’ us an’ we were tryin’a run. They...they killed you an' then one of 'em was on me..." He trails off. A soft warm touch reaches his wrists as Snafu gently pulls his palms away from digging into his eye sockets but he is still unable to look at Snafu, even turns his head away from him.

"Wow. S'fucked up." Snafu sounds angry and he doesn’t say anything else for a moment but he seems to compose himself and the next time he speaks, his voice is soft and calming again. “I’m sorry, Gene.”

"Before I enlisted, papa told me about the people he treated before and how they still ain't stopped havin'em. I'm ain’t sure they ever stop." Eugene sighs and his hands drop to his knees. He’s almost certain Snafu is leaning on him harder now. Or perhaps he’s the one leaning, he can’t even tell anymore.

Snafu swats at him gently with the back of his hand. "Maybe it'll be different for y-"

"Eugene?" Snafu falls silent at the sound of Eugene’s mother calling up the stairs. She opens his door before he can even stand up. "You’re home. Why didn't you come say..." Her eyes fix on Snafu. "Oh-hello, Merriell. I-I didn't realise you had company...good heavens, what happened to your face?" 

Her eyes trail over Snafu’s bust up lip and even he turns his head a little, as if intimidated by the scrutiny. Chest filling with dread, Eugene opens his mouth to explain but before he can, Snafu cuts in.

"Fell out a tree." He supplies, perhaps a little louder and more animated than he really needs to. "Such a fuckin' idiot, ain't that right, Sledgehamma’? Good thing I had your son around." He huffs a small laugh. Eugene only gapes at him. What the fuck is he doing?

Eugene’s mother doesn’t look too sure. "I-Lemme call Edward, he can take a look it." She immediately begins to turn. She’s always like that, always appears to be in such a rush

"I'm fine, Gene has already seen to it." Snafu calls. Mary turns back, her eyes flickering between them.

"Oh, well, that’s good. Does this mean we can be expecting you for dinner, Merriell?" She questions and Eugene immediately notices the lack of an actual invitation in the way she asked him.

"I'm good." Snafu answers, quickly remembering himself and adding "Thanks." Eugene's mother nods once and quietly excuses herself from the room.

"Lemme know if you boys need anythin’." She offers, Eugene follows her to the door, thanks his mother as well and closes it behind her.

"Fell out a tree?" He hisses, turning to Snafu. "Where the fuck’ ya pull that from?"

"You prefer I hadn't?" Snafu reasons, prodding tenderly at his lip and trying to mask the small wince. "Broad’s so on edge, reckon this’d push her over for sure. Figured I’d save ya from that if I could."

Eugene moves back to his bed and drops back onto one knee next to Snafu. "Still got bits of flower in ya hair." Is all he mumbles in reply.

Snafu smirks and brushes his hand through his hair, missing the flowers completely. Eugene tuts and raises his hand to help. Snafu leans his head forward so he can nimbly pick the last flowers out of his curls. When he gets them out, Eugene holds them up in front of him and then places them in Snafu’s hand.

"Looked prettier with ‘em in." He mutters and laughs when Snafu tells him where to stick the pretty flowers. Snafu looks down at the flowers too, twisting them between his fingers and then presses them back into Eugene’s palm without a word.

Snafu stretches and stands up. "I'd better head off anyway." He yawns. "I already outstayed my welcome bein' here." He pulls a face at Eugene's answering tut and walks to the door, turning back to Eugene who stands to follow him. "I can let myself out." He insists, growing more serious. "Try and get some decent sleep."

"Speak for yourself." Eugene retorts bitterly. "Shit or not, at least I sleep."

"I did today, thanks to you." He counters and Eugene is caught off guard by the genuine compliment and his cheeks burn again, despite him. Snafu looks him in the eyes and Eugene tries to meet his gaze but he can’t stop his eyes from drifting to his lip again instead. Of course Snafu notices. "Forget my fuckin' lip. I've had worse, I'll heal." 

Eugene sighs and finally his glance moves up to his eyes. The quirk on Snafu’s lips is not the one Eugene is familiar with, there’s something else in there, something in his eyes too but he can’t make out what, exactly. Then, just as Snafu dips his head to turn towards the door, Eugene suddenly blurts out a request before he’s even sure what he’s doing. "Come to my window tonight."

Snafu turns back and his eyes search Eugene for a moment. "Not sick o' seein' me yet?" He smirks but it doesn’t last long and is quickly replaced by an uncertain frown.

"Please." Eugene begs, feeling needy and pathetic but unable to stop himself regardless. "Jus-just come, alright? We’ll go for a walk or somethin' it don't matter."

Snafu’s frown fades from his brow as he holds Eugene’s gaze for a moment longer and he nods. "I'll be here." He promises and then he’s out of sight. Eugene waits until he hears the click of the front door and then shuts his own and leans against it. He’s shaking, finally alone and vulnerable to the weight of what happened rapidly settling onto his shoulders.

It isn't even that he hit Snafu that bothers him the most. Snafu had done nothing but try to distract him from the dream since but the moment he got up to leave, the image of him being shot down played in his mind and he suddenly couldn’t bare the idea of Snafu leaving his sight, as though if he does, then there is some way that his nightmare can come true. He knows how crazy it sounds but then tears are breaking from his eyes and he has to clasp his hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He slides down to the floor and cries, shoulders shaking violently and he screws his eyes up, pressing his palms into them again, not relenting until white peppers the back of his vision again and a dull ache builds enough to take away that damn image of the whites of Snafu’s eyes as he’s mowed down.

When he finally calms down enough, he stiffly gets to his feet and trudges over to his bed. He pulls his journal from his satchel and carefully presses the two tiny flowers from Snafu’s hair between a couple of pages at the back of the book. He sits down on his bed, making sure to cram himself in the most uncomfortable position he can find, too scared of falling asleep and having the vision of his dead friend haunt him once more.

...

Of course his parents notice that something is up. Apparently Eugene is an open book these days. He barely says two words during dinner and his mother makes her usual attempts to try and sneakily find out what’s bothering him. It’s getting harder and harder to mask his feelings these days, or at least it feels like it. His mother treads so carefully around him, he’s sure she must read these things within him. She asks if his low mood has anything to do with what happened to “‘that strange boy’ in a tone that tenses up an already aching jaw.

When he calls her out through gritted teeth, at least she doesn’t try to deny it. She tells him that she thinks he lied about his lip, though she seems to be genuinely unaware that her sweet, harmless son, Eugene had anything to do with it. Her queries lean towards a theory that perhaps Merriell Shelton was getting into fights. This, followed by a concern that reiterates to Eugene that she is still not content with him being around, especially if he’s getting into trouble. Eugene is too tired to even try and argue with her. Not hungry and certainly not in the mood for this conversation, he snaps an excuse and removes himself from the dinner table in favour of shutting himself in his bedroom for the evening.

The quiet knock on his window comes a short while after he hears his parents settle down to bed. Eugene cracks open the window to Snafu pulling a face at him and climbing back down, puffing on a half finished cigarette while he silently starts to wander back down towards the entrance of Eugene’s front lawn. Eugene grabs a jacket and roughly slips on a pair of shoes, still in his pyjamas but it doesn't matter, not tonight. He climbs out of the window, onto the canopy and drops to the grass below, catching up with Snafu in his own time.

They walk in silence for a few minutes and not the uncomfortable kind, their shoulders brush sometimes. The only sounds are that of their feet crunching against the gritty dirt floor, their clothes chafing along with their movements and the sound of Snafu's smoke laced exhales.

"Get any sleep after I left?" Snafu finally asks at length, using the nub of his cigarette to light a new one and offering it to Eugene, saying nothing when he accepts it. Eugene looks down and shakes his head, taking a small drag from the smoke. "Not still beatin' yourself up are ya, Sledgehamma?" He asks with a passive sigh and nudges himself into Eugene, knocking him off track slightly. "Fuck that." Snafu bites.

"How is your lip?” Eugene snaps back as if it makes a point. Snafu glares him sideways for a few seconds. 

"S'fine." He answers matter of factly, snatching his cigarette back and dragging from it. "So you can stop feelin' guilty an’ start decidin’ if you gonna sleep out in the field with me tonight.” 

"I'm not sure it's a good idea anymore, Snaf." Eugene replies hesitantly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. It’s cooler out than he’d expected.

"An’ why’s that?” Snafu sighs, irritated, as if he already knows what’s coming.

"What if it happens again?" Eugene says anyway. "I’m gonna keep havin' nightmares, Snaf and there's nothin' to say I won't get confused again." He bites his lip. "Next time I could do worse." 

Snafu sucks on his smoke and considers him briefly. "I'm not scared, y'know."

"Maybe you’re not." Sledge comments bitterly, looking at the ground and kicking a pebble out of his path. "I’m not gonna risk hurtin' you again. I-I can't."

"You ain’t gotta risk nothin’." Snafu supplies. "I'll risk it an’ if anythin' happens again, it’s on me." Eugene shakes his head, ignoring the exasperation in Snafu’s sigh. "Havin’ you around, it's the best fuckin' sleep I got in a long time an’ I ain’t givin' up easy." 

That catches him off guard and guilt gnaws in his gut. The whole times he’s been feeling like shit about what happened, he’d selfishly not considered that Snafu might not have been trying to make him stop feeling guilty for entirely selfless reasons. That Snafu is getting something from this too and the prospect of Eugene taking that away from him is enough for him to try and fight for it.

Eugene faces him and finally sighs in defeat. "You stubborn fuck." He bites but he can’t stop his lip from quirking and taking the edge from his words. A gust of wind makes him shudder and he pulls his jacket around him tighter. 

"Cold?" Snafu says, throwing the butt of his smoke into a bush.

"You're not?" Eugene retorts.

"Come on." Snafu turns on the spot, hand wrapping around his wrist and tugging him back in the direction they just walked. Eugene stumbles to keep up, wondering what the hell snafu is getting at.

"Thought you wanted to sleep outside." He protests. It’s too early to head back, he can’t be left along again just yet, he’s spent the entire evening inside his head, much more of that and he’ll surely go insane.

"Fuck it." Snafu doesn’t slow down but he does release Eugene’s arm. "Too fuckin' cold anyway." 

"You can stay in my room again." Eugene offers, quickly adding, “If you wanna.” He hates how needy he’s been sounding recently. Snafu must thinks it’s laughable, he certainly does.

Snafu snorts. "No offence, Cher, but ya floor ain't that nice."

“Sleep in my bed then." And really, he scolds himself for being needy and then asks Snafu to sleep in his damn bed. What is wrong with him.

"I already told you I ain't takin' ya bed."

"You don't have to." The confused frown Snafu sends him makes his cheeks burn again and he looks at his feet, his mind bellowing at him to shut the fuck up but apparently his mouth isn’t a part of his damn body anymore and not under the control of his brain. "It’s more than big enough for two people..."

"You fuckin' serious?" Snafu stops and turns to look at him incredulously. "And if your parents see us? If findin’ me in your room ain’t bad enough, findin’ me in your bed, Cher? They'd beat the livin' shit outta me, outta both of us." 

"Just sneak out before they get up like this mornin’.” Eugene answers and that’s it. He can’t even try to convince himself otherwise anymore. He wants Snafu to come in, stay in his room, in his bed if he has to, anything just to make him stay because the alternative is to be alone and he can’t, not now. “It’ll be fine.”

Once they reach the canopy sat underneath his bedroom window, Eugene hoists himself up and turns to outstretch his hand to Snafu.

"Comin'?" He whispers his offer again. Snafu looks at the hand and up to his face and quirks an eyebrow. He sighs dramatically and slaps Eugene’s hand away so he can climb up himself.

"Don't get fuckin' sappy on me." He quips. Eugene nudges him and holds his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, if only to cover how damn silly he feels.

"Want some nightclothes?” He asks, even though Snafu had rejected them the previous night, sleeping on his floor and sleeping in Eugene’s bed are completely different. Snafu shrugs but ultimately accepts. Eugene quietly digs around in a draw, still in mostly darkness and pulls out a clean set of night clothes. 

Since he’s already in pyjamas, Eugene shrugs off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, flicks off the light switch and climbs into his bed, pushing himself to the side closest to the wall. He can just make out Snafu's silhouette as he strips himself of his clothes and slips on the trousers but leaves the shirt off. This doesn’t surprise Eugene at all and he flips back the covers on Snafu’s side so that he can climb in. Snafu pulls them back and climbs on top of them instead.

"I'll get too hot." He explains before Eugene can ask. Eugene can feel the pull on the covers from Snafu’s weight but he doesn’t mention it. "Gonna try an’ sleep tonight?" He asks instead.

"Guess we’ll see." Snafu mumbles. "But you will. Now sleep."

Eugene huffs but makes no further comment. He settles on his back for a little while and listens to the sound of Snafu’s inconsistent breathing. When he starts to feel the pull of unconsciousness, a thought keeps him from giving into it. "Snaf." He whispers.

"Hmm?" 

"If you see me havin' another nightmare..." Eugene hears Snafu sigh at that.

"I'll smother you with a pillow." Snafu finishes for him. Eugene turns onto his side, facing Snafu and lifting his head to address him properly.

"Seriously, if I do, don't-don't wake me from it.” He warns. “It's all in my head. If I hurt you again, that's real. I don't want that." 

"Gene." Snafu says faintly, uneasiness lacing his tone. "Fake or not, it’s real to you. How’m I gonna leave you like that?"

"It don't matter." Eugene replies. "Just do it anyway, please?" 

Snafu sighs but doesn't argue with him further. The pull of sleep becomes too strong and Eugene drifts into it. Thoughts of Snafu float around his mind until they become incomprehensible and are replaced by the usual horrors of bombs and bullets.

An uncertain amount of time passes before Eugene hazes into a semi-consciousness, the small wounded sounds coming from his own mouth are uncontrollable and he’s too out of it to do anything about it. His awareness flits between the softness of his pillow and the loose dirt under his feet as he tries to find his way through the memory of a jungle. He flinches at the sound of a gun shot and feels something tickle the back of his hand. He grabs for it instinctively and whatever it is strokes light circles in his palm. He lets it.

He drifts back into the jungle and a sound startles him to freeze and raise his weapon, every muscle rigid and tense. The stroking on his hand shifts to his arm and he senses the feel of a weight looming over him. He twists uncomfortably and the weight backs off. The movement is enough to pull him out of his sleep enough to realise the weight is Snafu, probably heard him whimpering. His mind tells him to be embarrassed by this but he’s not there enough to commit to the idea. 

He rolls over and his eyelids part the slightest amount to see wide concerned eyes roaming over him. He wants to tell him he’s alright, to tell him he should go to sleep but his mouth won’t work. He doesn’t like the expression on Snafu’s face and he reaches towards him instead. His eyes close again but he feels warmth envelope him and he thinks distantly that Snafu must’ve got cold if he’s under the covers too but then his face is being pressed into the warm crook of a neck and he’s gone in the next deep breath of Snafu’s scent.

Slowly a soft low sound reaches his ears, an unknown tune that he recognises regardless. The light of the jungle sky vanishes and he’s bunking down into a foxhole, huddling into the warmth of his comrade who’s humming that very tune. He hears soft, barely there whispers, not a single word makes sense to him but his bones turn to jelly and he relaxes completely in safe warmth and comfort.


	5. Chapter 5

They start doing this every single night. 

Snafu waits until Eugene's parents have gone to bed before sneaking in through the window to come and fall asleep next to him. Eugene quickly grows used to falling asleep next to the extra weight in his bed, the radiating warmth that makes him feel safe and the hum of an unknown lullaby, securing him into a far more restful sleep than he’s been having since his return home.

The nightmares still haunt him, even Snafu being around can’t change that but it does settle his racing heart faster than before. Especially when Snafu holds him. Eugene hasn’t said a thing to him about it, he’s not even sure if Snafu knows he’s actually aware of it. The thought of him stopping if he finds out worries him enough to keep his mouth -and eyes- shut. He often feigns sleep after having woken up in Snafu’s arms, pressed against his chest, forehead tucked under his chin. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe it’s just damn crazy but Eugene secretly adores it, being surrounded by Snafu, snuggling against his warmth, breathing in the musky scent of him. And he knows that Snafu is sleeping too, actually falling into slumber. He’d rarely had issues sleeping when they were over there, out on the line, bunked into their foxholes. During that time, Eugene and Snafu had often ended up paired together and huddled together to sleep. Eugene liked it that way then, and that hasn’t changed now. Having someone next to him while he sleeps, it’s a familiarity he’s grown so used to. And having that someone be Snafu himself, well that just makes things even better.

Snafu needs this too, Eugene is sure of it. Even if he doesn't say it, after the first few nights, Eugene stops asking him to stay because he knows he’ll be there anyway. And sometimes Eugene will wake up in the night to find Snafu sound asleep and he will lay and stare at his slumber softened features, slightly distorted by pressure of his face against the pillow. He can’t help but to feel blissfully relieved that this situation is working for him too, that they have discovered a new way to cope. And sure, maybe they can't keep this up forever but maybe they won't need to. Maybe this is just while they get used to the idea of not feeling like they could be killed any moment, even while asleep. Or maybe one or both of them will meet somebody and this will have to stop anyway.

Eugene doesn't like to let his mind wander this far very often, it’s a shitty place to dwell. He knows his reliance on these nights can mean nothing good but for now none of that matters, his need for them is stronger. More than that, he wants to need them, and a selfish part of him prays to God that Snafu needs them just as much. But even if he does, there’s always the possibility that Snafu will stop needing him before he does and he will start to try and pull away, getting increasingly frustrated by the way Eugene will want to cling on, not ready to leave the safeness, the protected comfort of his best friends embrace.

And Eugene already knows that Snafu is not one for goodbyes, hell he experienced it firsthand on that damn train. And while he’ll never admit it, the fear that every time he awakens in the morning to find Snafu has already left, just for a moment, before he has chance to push it away, the spike of worry tingles across his core, making tears well in his eyes. What if that one morning, Snafu has decided he’s done with this place, done with sleeping in some other guys bed, done with seeing that red headed bible thumper every day and packed up his few belongings and got himself on the nearest train back home to Louisiana. And just like that day on the train, he doesn’t wake Eugene to say goodbye or at least give him some warning, he just disappears from Eugene’s life, leaving him alone to fester and wander in loss and hopelessness until it just about drives him insane. _Just like last time._

"Sledgehamma."

Eugene's eyes snap open and it feels like when he would accidentally get water in his ears and then have to wait for that moment when it clears and everything suddenly sounds clear and crisp. He almost can’t tell if he was actually asleep or just trapped in really deep thought. He sniffs and lifts his head, everything looks blurry and distorted. He’s ready for Snafu to take his place while he takes over the watch, trying to keep his face angled away from Snafu as best he can. He doesn’t want him to see his tearful eyes. He can hear the distant sound of someone whimpering, perhaps having a nightmare. He will have to go to them if it doesn’t cease soon, he can't have them giving their positions away.

“My watch already?” He sniffs and tries to sound passive but his voice sounds strange in his own ears. A couple extra hours sleep would have been just exactly what he needed, although that wouldn’t be fair on Snafu after he’s done the first shift. Now it’s Snafu’s turn to get some shut eye and his turn to take watch.

A hand on his face brings him to the realisation that his turn to watch will not be coming because he’s laying in a bed. His bed, not a slick, mud filled foxhole and although it is still dark, the grubby gear clad, gun carrying comrade of his who had woken him up is in fact the clean, curly haired, shirtless version that he now shares his bed with. It’s then that he realises that the whimpering is coming from much closer, closer being his own mouth, and his blurred vision is because, despite his turn for watch not being real, the tears welling up in his eyes most definitely are.

"Gene. Gene. Look at me, Gene." Snafu’s voice is soft and encouraging and he reaches out towards it. Eugene tries to look at him but he can’t focus his eyes, he’s not entirely sure he’s fully awake yet. A lump swells in his chest and it feels like panic. His heart pounds in his chest and steals his breath from him.

"Please don't leave me." Eugene’s voice breaks as he begs before he even realises he’s spoken. The tears finally spill and he can't stop the cry that follows. He reaches forward and claws at Snafu, one hand finding place on the muscle between shoulder and neck while the other one tangles up into his hair in what must be a painful grip but he receives no complaint from Snafu, who's eyes go wider still as he watches his distress. "You can't leave me yet, I can't...you gotta..." He sobs deliriously.

"Shhh, Sledgehamma, I'm not goin' anywhere, I'm right here." Snafu's hand on his face tilts him in another attempt to get him to look at him, and Eugene feels his other arm snake under his body, grasping behind his back to pull them close together like he does when he thinks Eugene is asleep. "I'm right here, Gene." 

"Can't leave me...not yet..." He rambles on.

Eugene's eyes are screwed shut against the tears but he feels a gentle thumb stroke along the skin below his one eye. "Look at me." He hears a whispered demand. "It's alright, I'm here." Eugene’s eyes blink open slowly. "You're not alone, Cher. You never were." Eugene leans forward and buries his face in the crook of his neck, gripping onto him so tightly, like he’s afraid that Snafu isn't really there. He feels the side of Snafu’s face press against his, feels his lips brush his ear as he hushes him. He’s holding Eugene firmly as he struggles but he doesn’t seem to realise that Eugene is struggling to get closer to him, not to get away.

Neither of them can pinpoint the exact moment when their lips meet but they kiss with the desperation of starving men. Lips part, teeth clash clumsily, heavy breaths are lost in each other. Hands fist in hair and clothes as they fight to move against each other. Eugene feels weight push him back so that Snafu is slightly above him and their noses brush as he angles his head to renew the kiss. Eugene lets him take over, Snafu doesn’t seem to have anticipated the desperation in which he needs to feel claimed by him in this moment but the more Eugene opens to him, the deeper he kisses him.

The saltiness of his own tears mixes with the bitter taste of cigarettes in Snafu's mouth. Snafu kisses like he wants him to know he means it, as if it’s the only chance he’s ever going to get to tell him so and Eugene tries to pay him back in kind, tries to communicate his need as clearly as he can. He loses himself in the kiss and pulls Snafu flush against him. Snafu delves forward harder in response and kisses Eugene with the same kind of urgency that he had seen from him many times during battle. When Snafu starts biting and tugging at his bottom lip, Eugene hums at the roughness and arches up into him, causing one of Snafu’s legs to slide in between his own and their hips fall together. 

Eugene gasps into the kiss and it makes Snafu lift back up and hover above him. They’re both breathing heavily and Snafu is trembling above him, whether from supporting his own weight or not, Eugene doesn’t know. And then he feels the weight shift as Snafu lifts one arm to wipe over Eugene's mouth, taking away all of the extra moisture around his lips. He uses the same arm up to wipe at his own too. Eugene wants to drag him back down, wants to feel that possession again. He can still taste Snafu on his lips and it’s dizzying but he forces himself not to reach out to him and soon after, he feels Snafu drop slowly back to his side of the bed, pulling Eugene so they face each other. They lay on their sides, with Snafu’s hand under Eugene's head, other hand carding fingers through his hair soothingly.

“Sleep.” Snafu whispers so lightly, Eugene isn’t even sure he didn’t just imagine it.

Eugene sniffs, not daring to speak. He stopped crying at some point during the kiss but his mind is a mess. He tries to grapple onto some kind of logical thought, tries to process anything that floods through his mind but then Snafu is kissing him again. He’s kissing him again! It’s different this time. He’s sweet and gentle, slow and soft, there’s nothing to show, no statement to make, now it’s simply about the feel of each other. All of Eugene’s attempts at coherent thought are lost to him again in favour of melting into such an addictive touch. Snafu slips their mouths apart to kiss along his jaw and to his ear lobe delicately and Eugene tucks himself against the warmth, pressing his face into his neck. They’re going to have to talk, he thinks distantly. There are questions that need answers, decisions to be made but right now he can do nothing more but relax into the secure embrace and his thoughts start to warp as he drifts again. Soft humming reaches his ears again and it pushes him that extra step into slumber.

....

He knows that Snafu is gone before he’s even come round enough to open his eyes. It’s a gut feeling that he can't control but then his eyes slip open to the empty space next to him. He slides one arm across to the space and it’s cold enough that he must have been gone for a little while. He’s always gone by morning, this is nothing new, he just thought that maybe Snafu would have stuck around, or at least awoken him before he left this time after...

He half dares to wonder if what had happened in the middle of the night had all been some obscure dream. Hell, he’s been confused between dream and reality before, so what makes him so sure that last night really happened? Would he prefer if it had been? It would be easier if it had.

He gets a flash of soft lips against his own, of hands in his hair, thumbs wiping away his tears and he gets a sharp pang of something he’s not familiar with, a strong wish to hear the small knocks on his window, to see Snafu climbing through it to come and do that again. A desperate urge to be near him again, a pure, deep, unrelenting... _want._

His mind will only settle on one thing. Gotta find Snafu.

He can hear his parents moving around downstairs. Quickly he gets up, throws on some clothes and heads down.

"Mornin' dear." His mother says softly, approaching him and stroking her hands down his arms in her usual way. The look on her face is cautious and it puts him on edge. She’s not masking her worry very well. "Did you sleep...alright?" 

"Same as usual." Eugene replies distantly. He knows they hear him when he has nightmares and it’s easy to assume they had probably heard him crying so there’s no point denying it. A jolt shoots through his chest at the sudden thought that maybe they heard more than that but he knew that whatever they had heard, they probably assume he’s sleep talking. He’s certain this would be going very differently if they had known anything about last night. "I'm gonna go for a walk, I won't be long."

"Now, Eugene, you haven't eaten a thing-"

"Mama, I'm really not hungry-"

"Nonsense, you're not leavin' here until you've eaten something."

He sighs, he hates it when she talks to him like he’s a child but arguing with her is only going to make drag this out so he agrees to sit down to breakfast with them. And while his mother tuts and shakes her head at the way he wolfs down the food within minutes, he knows she can say nothing since he’s doing as she requested. He finishes off his plate of food and asks to be excused, mouth still half full.

His mother sighs but accepts. "Eugene." She calls him back as he bolts up to throw a jacket around his arms. He turns, almost at the door, to look at her. "I received a letter this morning,” she goes on. "Sidney's com to visit tomorrow to make arrangements for the wedding. He's bringing Miss Houston with him and I'm going to have them round for dinner, so I'd like you to be available, Eugene."

"I will be." He promises, edging himself towards the front door.

"And I'd like you to bring Mr Shelton...he is a friend of yours." She cuts him off stubbornly before as he opens his mouth to protest. "And so he is as welcome here as any of your friends. Invite him please."

Eugene sighs. There’s no arguing with her when she gets like this. “Alright, mama." He answers shortly, yanking open the door. "I will.”

... 

When he arrives at the fields, Snafu is nowhere to be seen. He trudges over to the spot they have somehow made their own and plants himself down onto the grass, ignoring the dampness seeping into his trousers.

"Fuck." He breathes to himself. 

Maybe what happened last night snapped something in Snafu and he’s taken off. Maybe that had just been the final straw, the toe over the line of what he can handle. Hell, Eugene can’t deny they have overstepped, pushed a boundary that was never even supposed to exist. But then he remembers his fingers in Snafu's hair, the soft lips that took control of his own, the glint in them wide eyes that told him so much more than that quick smart mouth had ever dared. Goosebumps glitter over his arms and his chest aches in a yearning to feel that again, God help him, he knows it’s wrong but it does.

Eugene stays sitting there for ages, waiting to see if Snafu will come. He’s certain that Snafu would know that they wouldn’t be able to talk properly in his house. It makes more sense for them to meet away from people he knows, away from people in general. Snafu must be doing some work for someone, Eugene tries to convince himself. He’s been finding a lot of small jobs and things, word of mouth linking him to various people in need around the town. He’s just working and it’s a time consuming job or he’s lost track of time.

As the wind starts to pick up and the day grows tired, he gives up on waiting and returns home. Snafu will come to him tonight then, he thinks, trying to ignore the little skip in his heart when he does. It will be harder to talk properly but they will figure it out, sneak out of his window and go for a walk, like they do.

His mother scolds him during dinner for skipping lunch but he doesn't pay much attention. He goes to his room and sits at his desk until well into the night, waiting to see if Snafu is going to come to him as he has been every night for a while now. He tries to focus enough to write in his journal but he mostly just doodles mindlessly on the back pages instead.

He’s fidgety as hell. Snafu can’t have actually left. If he’d not been alright with what was happening, he’d have pushed Eugene away, right? He certainly wouldn’t have climbed on top of him like that, wouldn’t have kissed him back. But then...Eugene had fallen back to sleep, he has no idea if Snafu had too. With the rest of the night to think, perhaps Snafu had come to some kind of conclusion, some realisation that this is all wrong. After all, Snafu had never given Eugene his reason for leaving him on the train without a goodbye, why the hell would he give him a reason before deciding to take off?

But things are different now, he reasons desperately. He has to because if not he will start to believe that what he fears has come true. On the train, Snafu could have argued that Eugene didn’t need him to wake him up, to say goodbye. Now there’s no way Snafu can deny that Eugene needs him around, he’s made it clear as day. And Snafu told him just last night, promised him that he isn’t going anywhere, that Eugene isn’t alone. Has he broken that promise?

Eugene scribbles so hard his pencil breaks and he throws himself up from his chair in irritation. If Snafu wants to abandon him, to run away then fine, he can’t torment himself further. He strips down and drops onto his bed with a huff. Annoyed as he is, he rolls onto his stomach and presses his face into the pillow Snafu has been sleeping on for the past few nights. His senses flood with the scent of him and Eugene doesn’t want to enjoy it as much as he does. Getting himself comfortable, he stuffs his hands under the pillow, almost so he’s hugging it but freezes when something rough catches against his fingers. He clasps at the object and pulls it out, sitting up and turning it over in his palm. 

It’s a crumpled up bit of paper.

He turns towards the mild moonlight coming through his window and, with nimble fingers he pulls open the paper to find a weakly scribbled out drawing of a flower with three petals. His brow creases and he turns it over and spots a rough scrawl he hasn’t seen in some time but recognises nevertheless. His eyes trail over two words carved into the paper and his lip twitches into a small smile. ‘Duck potato.’ He flips the page back over and stares at the crossed out flower. Snafu listened, not only did he listen, he remembered the exact flower Eugene had referred to when telling him about it. The only place he had found this particular flower was _the creek._

Mentally kicking himself for not thinking to go there in the first place, he jumps up from his bed, throwing on clothes and quickly sneaks back out of his window, running down the little trail to the creek. 

When the tree first falls into his sight, he can't make out anything more than branches, not with the distance and the dim light. The more he stares at the tree, he starts to hallucinate shapes and movements that he can't trust to be real. He sees a figure drop from a branch and his heart lurches. Snafu.

"I got your note." Eugene calls to him, halting a few feet away from him. “Have you been here all day? Why didn't you just wake me up?" He sounds more irritated than he thought he was. Snafu rubs the back of his neck and looks around as though something might help him.

"I wanted to." Snafu explains, sounding so caught it only puts Eugene on edge. "I had no fuckin' clue what to say." He shuffles his feet. "So I left a note, an' hoped I'd know by the time you got here."

Eugene wants to ask him what he’d have done if he hadn’t found the damn note but Snafu is shifting from foot to foot and doing almost everything he can to avoid looking him in the eye. He looks like he might bolt any moment so he doesn’t ask. "And?" He pushes instead.

Snafu waves dismissively with a frustrated sound and starts to pace. He looks so uncomfortable, almost small and vulnerable and Eugene realises that something has finally stumped Snafu, truly stumped him. And it’s like the concept is too much to fit into his lithe body, leaving him flustered, pacing, fidgeting. Overwhelmed.

"Snaf." Eugene says calmly, all irritation draining from him at the state of the man in front of him.

"What?" Is snapped at him in return but he can see in Snafu’s eyes that he doesn’t mean it. The set in his jaw and the aversion of his eyes that’s helplessly apologetic.

"I need you to say it." Snafu stops pacing and looks at him, finally just looks at him and it’s enough to make Eugene step forward. Blood rushes in his ears and he twists his hands together. The trees rustle with the light wind and the sound is the goosebumps dancing along his skin. "Tell me that last night happened. I just...I need to hear you say it, 'cause right now I ain’t sure that I didn't just make the whole damn thing up."

Snafu freezes for a moment, eyes searching Eugene for something, he doesn't know what. Then he sighs and looks at his feet. "It happened."

Eugene nods to himself. The vocal confirmation makes a difference, he’s not sure why but there’s a shift in the air. "Alright." He says slowly, followed by. "Fuck."

He can feel Snafu’s eyes start following every movement he makes. "Y'know, Gene, just forget it ever happened if that's what you want." Snafu says. It sounds like a genuine offer but there’s something underlying his tone, a hard bitterness that’s enough for Eugene to know how bad those words tasted coming from Snafu’s mouth.

"Not the kind of thing you can forget." He chuckles but it’s entirely humourless, rubbing lightly at one eye.

"Well you were pretty out of it..." Snafu sounds almost accusing and Eugene shakes his head, huffing incredulously, making Snafu trail off.

"I knew what I was fuckin’ doin’, Snaf." He snaps, pushing a hand through his hair.

"So what're you sayin' then?" Snafu bites back, his voice thickening with his own frustration. "You don't want me around no more? I can pack up and be outta here before mornin’ if that's what you're gettin' at."

"What?" Eugene screws his face up. Snafu’s almost like a cornered animal, so readily defensive but what’s he so scared of? "No, that's not what I'm sayin' at all." He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes. "I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do.”

He pushes harder against his eyes until white spots appear in his vision. He doesn’t hear Snafu step closer to him and when he feels fingers gently touch the side of his face but he flinches without thinking and then looks on in horror as Snafu misreads the movement and takes a step back, releasing Eugene’s hand. Eugene can barely look at the expression of hurt on his face. That’s it, what he’s so afraid of. Rejection. His outburst before was his way of trying to avoid it, to reject himself before Eugene has a chance to. Maybe in his mind it hurts less to convince himself he walked away first.

Eugene can’t bare the thought and he steps forward immediately, fixing Snafu with an apologetic gaze and takes his hand, bringing it back up to his face and leaving his own hand over the top. He feels Snafu relax a little and his face softens as he steps closer still, their chests just inches apart. Snafu’s jaw is still locked, tense as his eyes roam over Eugene’s face. Eugene doesn’t buckle under the gaze, determined to make up for flinching. He feels Snafu’s thumb trace over his upper cheek bone and his other hand comes to rest on his shoulder. He takes Snafu’s waist in return and he visibly relaxes because of it.

"Fuck, Cher.” Snafu breathes. His eyes fall to Eugene's lips. "All I've been able to think about since-" He hesitates and looks down. Eugene tilts his head, trying to catch Snafu’s eyes again, let him know he’s listening eagerly. It works and Snafu lifts his head back up before continuing. "Is how much I want to do it again." 

Eugene feels an invisible shudder run through his spine at his words. His own eyes flicker to Snafu's mouth, the split in his upper lip has almost entirely healed over. "How much?" 

"So much it hurts." Snafu blurts out before Eugene has barely finished his words and fuck, if his heart doesn't burst out of his chest any second, he’s sure it’s gonna give out altogether. He leans in, briefly seeing Snafu’s eyelids drifting shut as he closes his own. The lightest brush of lips against his own, hesitant and unsure and he exhales through his nose, leaning into that softness, the warmth of Snafu's breath gliding over his face. The lips against his part, and he follows their lead, deepening the kiss. 

Snafu releases Eugene’s face to take ahold of his hand, intertwining their fingers while his other arm snakes around Eugene's back and pulls their bodies flush together. A small noise vibrates in the back of Eugene’s throat and he slides his hand into Snafu’s soft curly hair, stroking the unruly strands and then tugging at it experimentally, enjoying the guttural noise that he entices from Snafu, who immediately grows bolder and more confident. Their mouths part wider and Snafu moans, the kiss quickly growing in intensity, their movements becoming hurried, more desperate, hands grab at each other roughly, tugging at clothes to gain leverage.

Eugene feels the pressure increase in his trousers and with Snafu's body pressing against him, he doesn’t catch himself in time before he’s thrusting his hips forward to feel more. A harsh shudder spikes through him when Snafu sighs and hurriedly drops his hand from his back to his ass to pull him against him again. It’s just in that moment that a sharper breeze prickles the back of his neck and it’s enough to pull him out of this trance they have sunk into. 

"Snaf..." He tries to interrupt but Snafu's mouth blocks the words from escaping. He uses the hand in the dark hair as an anchor to drag his head back, bringing him to his own right mind for even just a fraction of a second. "Snaf, what...what're we doin'?" He says breathlessly. "We can't...we shouldn't..."

"Still thinkin' I'm gonna leave ya, Cher?" Snafu pants. He wipes the back of his arm along his mouth and jaw. "Y'know I'm far too selfish to do that, Gene." 

"If anyone sees us, we can kiss our asses goodbye." Eugene tries not to sound fearful but the way he worries his bottom lips between his teeth betrays him.

“I ain't plannin' on tellin' anybody, are you?" Snafu counters. "All the times we been up here, you ever seen another person?"

"That's not the point, you realise the risk we’re takin' by pursuing this?" 

"Then what d'you wanna do?" Snafu huffs, a little fiery again. “I know what I want, Gene. That’s worth the risk for me, is it worth it for you?” 

Eugene sighs and looks away. If anyone finds out, if they get caught, they’d be killed, there’s no other way around it. This isn’t just about what he wants. This changes _everything._ Snafu would really take such a risk, just to be with him? Would Eugene do the same for him?

“Yes.” The words come out of his mouth before he’s quite realised he’s saying them. “God help me. Yes, it is.” His hand shakes when he brings it up to touch the side of Snafu's face. Snafu leans into it for a moment, before a grin spreads slowly across his face.

"Aww hell, Cher." Snafu exclaims with a laugh, pulling Eugene into his embrace and continuing to speak against the crook of his neck. "We're a couple fucked up sonsabitches, huh?" 

"Understatement." Eugene huffs but allows Snafu’s joy to seep into him and he laughs too. Snafu starts to press kisses against the skin of his neck and shoulder and Eugene tilts his head as it ignites every section of skin he touches, while every part of his conscience screams nothing but caution at him. Maybe he should feel guilty but nothing could make him push Snafu away right now. The man is all warmth and security, a living breathing truth leaning on him, grounding him and Eugene welcomes every part of it. 

A part of him even wants Snafu to take over control and force him to admit the truth. The truth he’s sure they both have known for a while but never truly realised until now. And even that’s not entirely true. At least not for him. Thinking back, he’s pretty certain he knew he wanted this for a long time, perhaps even while they were still in that hell hole, but he would never have let himself linger onto that, a need that he could never possibly have hoped to fulfil. Except here he is, being caressed by the one and only man he can be his true self around. The one person who has seen his darkest moments and not batted an eye in judgement, who has truly accepted every part of him for exactly who he is. And he realises that he feels the same about Snafu. All of the fucked up things he’s seen Snafu do in the time he served him and it doesn’t matter. Hell, they all had red in their ledgers. War made people do questionable things for questionable reasons.

Snafu tilts Eugene's head towards him and steals his lips again. They kiss for what seems like an eternity, telling each other, showing each other, like they are sealing a deal or making a silent promise. 

"I could become addicted to this." Snafu breaths against his lips, not pulling away for a second. "I had to hope...after last night...that we’d do this again." Eugene inhales every word, clings onto Snafu tighter. He wants him closer, wants to be surrounded by him, the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him. He wants to be infected by him.

Eugene hadn't realised how lost he had been in their second kiss until Snafu broke away fully. They’re both breathing heavily, much heavier than they should really need to. Snafu continues to look at him, and he can see his irises twitching, looking at every detail of his face. Probably, Gene thinks, for some kind of sign, some clue as to what is going through his mind at this very moment, wanting to decipher if his next move will be accepted or rejected. Instead of waiting for that move, however, Eugene takes it upon himself to be the one to make it. He presses a hand to Snafu’s cheek, his little finger finding place just behind his jaw and his thumb sliding along kiss softened lips and he smiles when Snafu’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips. He makes out just the slightest twitch of a responding smile in the corner of Snafu's mouth.

"We gonna have to be so damn careful, Snaf.” Eugene repeats, ignoring the exasperated sigh he gets in return. “I mean it, if anyone finds out-“

Snafu kisses him briefly to hush him. "We'll be careful." He promises, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

"That word does not belong in your vocabulary." Eugene teases, earning him a knowing smirk and a playful shove.

"That mean you’re kickin’ me out ya bed, Sledgehamma?" Snafu asks, sounding more serious than Eugene expects he intended.

"No, you can stay." He assures him. "But just so you know, it will just be to sleep." He warns, ignoring the heat in his cheeks at what he feels is a daring suggestion. 

"Sleepin' is not quite what I had in mind but if that’s what you want." Snafu flirts and of course he’d do him one better. Eugene reminds himself never to underestimate Snafu Shelton. Still it makes his mind stall and he has no retort. 

It’s not long before they’re sauntering back towards Eugene’s house. They don’t talk much. Eugene couldn’t if he wanted to, his mind is alive with the conversation they had only moments ago.

What they did last night has affected Snafu too, he was so nervous, so unsure of himself, it was written all over him, in the way he moved, plain as day, something that Eugene had never seen in him before. And he can’t help but find some kind of comfort in this, to know that his feelings aren’t only one side of this equation.

He tries to justify their feelings to himself. Two people who have been through what they have are bound to find some kind of connection. This is just part of their healing, they need to be around each other at the moment, they need the familiarity, that’s all, once they move on, maybe this will end and they will go back to being friends. As soon as the thought enters his mind, he feels a pang of something he can't explain. Could they go back to being friends? Would they want to? Would _he_ want to? Could pursuing this ruin any chance they have of being in each other’s lives at all? 

And then his mind wanders to recent suggestions, the allusions that Snafu made towards a more physical side to their...whatever this is. 'I'm not sure sleepin' is what I had in mind...’ Of course, Eugene knows what he had been referring to, he isn't that naive but it dawns on him that he has no idea if Snafu is a virgin or not. On their way back from China, that man had flirted with anything in a dress and the things he said sometimes could've made the most seasoned soldier blush. It’s not unreasonable to assume that Snafu is not a virgin. It had never been something that Eugene had felt the need to ask, the same way that no one had asked him. He supposed that out there, it didn't matter if you had or not. But now it does and he _is_ still a virgin and as eager as he is to lose that title, he’ certainly is not sure if he will ever be able to do...whatever specifics that Snafu had been referring to.

He is most definitely aroused by Snafu. Hell, every time his mind wanders back to the kisses they’ve shared so far, the memory of Snafu's mouth on his own makes his cock twitch in automatic interest. He dreads the idea of not being able to give Snafu what he may be expecting. And even if Snafu is patient and willing to wait, Eugene isn’t silly enough to delude himself into thinking that Snafu will wait forever. Maybe this is what Snafu needs from him now, maybe this is what he needs Eugene to be.

The question is will Eugene be able to hold up to this unspoken expectation? He sure as hell wants to. He wants to be everything Snafu needs and more but when it actually comes down to it, will he be able to take those steps?


	6. Chapter 6

The moment the latch of the bedroom window clicks to signify it’s closed, Eugene changes back into his nightclothes and sits on his bed.

"Manual work in a white shirt?" Eugene scoffs, eyeing Snafu’s scuffed clothes while he kicks off his shoes.

"Good excuse to take it off." He counters smugly, unbuttoning it and pulling the fabric off his arms. He throws the shirt at Eugene, who snarls playfully but leans back, balls it up and stuffs it under his pillow. Snafu climbs onto the bed and crawls quietly to Eugene. When Snafu’s eyes roam over him, Eugene is suddenly hyper aware of how close he is but as the gap closes between them, Eugene turns his head away slightly, forcing Snafu to halt.

"We need to be fuckin' careful, Snaf." He warns again, beginning to feel like a broken record.

"Relax, Sledgehamma, we trained in stealth. If anyone can do this, it's us." Snafu whispers back reassuringly. This time when he leans forward, Eugene doesn’t stop him and their lips meet. He feels his head start to go fuzzy as he gives himself in to the kiss, hands coming up to hold onto Snafu, one on his shoulder, one sliding to the back of his neck to pull him closer. His bed creaks the slightest amount as Snafu shifts and Eugene breaks the kiss to listen intently, struggling to hear anything except Snafu's breathing. 

"Gene, you make more noise in your damn sleep." Snafu assures him again, continuing his movements until he’s hovering above Eugene, arms either side of him, stealing his attention.

"It won't be you that has to explain why there's a man in your bed." Eugene hisses against Snafu’s lips when he tries to kiss him again. Snafu only snorts infuriatingly, making Eugene pull away to glare at him. "I mean it, Snaf, quiet." 

"Gene." Snafu hushes him softly. "We ain’t makin’ noise. They ain’t walked in before and they won't now."

"Before, all they’d‘ve seen is two idiots tryin’ to sleep." Eugene grumbles but he can feel his resolve fading and he looks up at Snafu guiltily. He’s not even sure he knows what he’s resisting for anymore. Is it really all out of fear of his parents discovering them? Of course that’s part of it, he’d be foolish not to be concerned but perhaps a part of him is capitalising on that fear to mask his apprehension with Snafu. And really it’s not so much about what they might or might not do but this is entirely new territory for him and the feeling of having absolutely no idea what he’s doing won’t leave him alone.

“You _do_ want this, right?” Snafu pauses to look him solidly in the eyes and there’s a sudden tension in his shoulders. Eugene quickly nods his head but Snafu doesn’t relax. “Gene?”

Does he want this? The closest friend he made in that goddamn hell hole is leaning right above him, ready and waiting to take an irreversible step into the unknown with him. If this falls flat they’re putting a lot on the line, their friendship, their history, everything they endured together and that’s just between them emotionally. One wrong move around anyone else, one _toe_ in the wrong direction and they stand to lose a hell of a lot more than each other. All things considered, is he willing to take that risk? 

“Yeah.” Eugene breathes and it sends a tiny shudder through him. The first time he’s admitted it out loud, to Snafu, to himself and it’s almost like he’s only just realised it for sure. Yes, he does want this.

"Then we will be careful.” Snafu soothes. He slides his fingers through Eugene's hair and leans towards him slowly. Eugene gets the feeling he’s allowing him the space to make the final move, waiting to feel if he’s going to hesitate. "Come on." Snafu gently urges, breath tickling Eugene’s lips. "Kiss me, Gene."

Eugene tilts his jaw upwards and seal the small gap between them and they kiss slowly, softly. They move in a relaxed, precise manner, their noses brush, fingers comb through strands of hair, it’s amazing. It’s not long before Snafu tries to deepen the kiss though and Eugene feels those lips part more against his own.

“Open your mouth, Cher.” Snafu whispers and Eugene hesitates just long enough to feel the lightest flick of Snafu’s tongue against his lips before he repeats his request, whispers that right against his lips too, “open your mouth,” Eugene goes dizzy and does as he asks, parting his lips which Snafu seals over with his own and then that same tongue is sliding into his mouth and Eugene has to halt his breath to stop his moan.

He feels Snafu smile against him and he explores his mouth with his tongue, their bodies starting to writhe, responding to the spike in arousal. Eugene loses himself in such an obscene kiss, his own tongue flicking against Snafu’s and it’s so foreign, so new but so damn good and he takes ahold of Snafu’s head, waits for the tongue to delve deeper once again so he can receive him by closing his mouth around it and sucking.

The action has Snafu tearing his mouth away with a moan but he’s back on Eugene in the next moment with renewed fervour, ravaging his mouth, tugging at his lips with his teeth. It makes Eugene’s heart race in the best kind of way but when Snafu starts picking at the buttons of his pyjama shirt, he doesn’t anticipate the movement and tenses without thinking. Snafu’s hands halt on the buttons and shit, he’s noticed.

He can feel Snafu looking at him and knows he has to meet his gaze. When Eugene does, he anticipates a look of expectation, maybe something of disappointment at the idea that Eugene might not wish to go any further after he’s said he does. What he’s greeted with instead, couldn’t be any further from that. The wide eyes are only concerned, trying to read him.

“Y’good?” Snafu whispers and this time, he must accept Eugene’s nod because he goes back to undoing his night shirt, taking his time, his eyes on Eugene’s face while he does. Cool air reaches his skin and sends goosebumps along the freshly exposed areas and Snafu’s hands feel almost searing in comparison when he lays them on his bare chest. He pushes the shirt as open as it will go but doesn’t try to make Eugene shift to slip it off, which he’s thankful for. 

Snafu’s eyes pause on a scar, just under Eugene’s right shoulder. He slides his thumb over it almost fondly and there’s a shift in his eyes that makes Eugene wonder if he’s recalling the moment he got that scar but then Snafu blinks and it’s gone, his fingers tickle along his ribs making him shudder and twitch. Eugene responds by placing his own hands on Snafu’s waist, digging his nails in, enough to warn him to cease the tickling and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when Snafu gasps lightly. He seems to like these little moments of roughness, Eugene mentally notes for later use. When Snafu leans in and runs his lips along his jaw, Eugene tilts his head up to allow him more access and he shudders for a different reason when Snafu’s tongue drags along his throat and up towards his ear. Eugene feels his breath over the entrance and he gasps when a hot wet tongue dips into his ear briefly but then hisses at a sudden sharp pain on the lobe.

"No marks." Eugene warns sharply, grabbing a handful of curls to drag Snafu’s mouth away. Snafu lets out a soft grunt at that and shifts his focus back to Eugene’s neck instead. 

Kisses trail down Eugene’s chest and he tries to resist the urge to arch up into it but he’s distracted once again by a sting in his nipple. He glares down to find Snafu grinning up at him through dark eyelashes and letting his tongue roll out to lick over the bud apologetically. "You can hide any marks I leave here, Cher." He smiles against the skin and Eugene watches the look in his eyes turn mischievous as he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth. Eugene can’t help but gasp and try to wriggle away from it.

"Jesus, Snaf." He hisses. Snafu licks over the marks possessively and it sends a shiver down Eugene’s spine. The implication in it, marking him. And perhaps it’s far too early to be letting those kinds of things linger in his mind but damn if it doesn’t cause a sudden urge to touch Snafu, to drag him close and devour him. He doesn’t though. Instead, when Snafu trails lower, Eugene let’s him, sighing when Snafu’s tongue dips into his navel this time, leaving yet another bite on the soft skin below that. 

It takes almost no time after that for Snafu to reach the edge of his pyjama trousers and it’s like everything freezes for a moment. Snafu kisses and licks at the skin of his lower abdomen, taking his time as if deciding whether he should proceed or not. Eugene breathes heavily, his mind alive with the allusions to a possibility he’s never even considered. Does he let Snafu decide? Is Snafu waiting for some sign from him? He mindlessly pushes his chest up while he thinks about it, stretching his stomach and shifting his hips, _squirming._

He feels Snafu smile against his skin and seems to settle for not deciding at all when his mouth resumes it’s work but shifts sideways to nip at his hip bone instead of moving lower. And fuck if that isn’t exactly like Snafu, Eugene thinks. Hell, he's always been good at toeing the line between two choices and this is no different. It drives him insane in a way that he knows Snafu is loving. Snafu drags his mouth back up to his navel and back down, giving another bite to his hip which makes Eugene jump, every move he makes, keeping him on edge.

Eugene grows desperate, trying to keep the exhales quiet but Snafu is teasing him far too expertly and when he feels a palm press against him through the fabric of his pyjamas, he can’t take anymore. With another gasp, Eugene throws his hands down to grab any part of Snafu he can reach and yanks him back up to face him. He has just enough time to see that shit eating grin before he crashes their mouths together, kissing him feverishly. One of Snafu's legs slips down in between Eugene's in a position that reminds him of their first kiss and just like last time, their hips meet. Eugene can feel Snafu’s erection pressing against him but neither of them pull away this time. Snafu’s hips push downwards the smallest amount, Eugene can tell how much he wants this and it’s enough to make him return the movement in some kind of silent agreement.

They don’t speak, even as each small thrust grows harder and more frequent until they’re both rolling their hips against each other. To speak, to acknowledge it would break this bubble they have lost themselves in and Eugene can’t decide if that would be the sensible thing or not. All he knows is this feels damn good and the pressure is starting to build and he doesn’t want it to end. Every thrust he makes is mirrored by Snafu, who’s hands are in Eugene's hair, tugging the soft strands and forcing his head to move to his will. He makes these occasional soft, deep, almost growls against Eugene’s mouth which travel straight to his cock. Eugene grips onto Snafu's shoulders, tugging him closer, using him as leverage to be able to hump harder. Just a little more...almost...

Eugene’s hips falter and his sighs dissolve into little breathy hums and moans. He distantly feels Snafu’s lips leave his own and the firm pressure of a palm clamping over his mouth before his mind falls blank to sensation. While he lays there, mind buzzing warmly, he feels Snafu drop his head and press his face into the crook of his neck, biting down on the flesh hard as he grinds down heavily against him and stops moving. Eugene gasps in pain but Snafu seems so lost in the moment, it doesn’t even register to him until Eugene can’t take anymore and shoves him off to the side.

"Snaf, if you've marked me, I swear..." Eugene grumbles sleepily, rubbing at the mark

He hears Snafu’s breathy laugh somewhere to the side of him. "Y’might wanna wear somethin’ with a collar for a couple days.”

"Fuck you." Is all he gives in reply.

Eugene climbs out of the bed and rummages around to find them both some fresh clothes, slinging Snafu’s used clothes into a near empty draw as he removes them. He’s gonna have to find some way of sneaking them into the laundry.

Snafu doesn’t allow him any time to dwell, grabbing his wrist and dragging him back to the bed to pull him down so that Eugene falls on top of him. Eugene tenses and opens his mouth to warn him again but Snafu smothers his attempts with his own mouth.

"I can't fuckin' get enough of this." Snafu murmurs against his lips. Eugene breathes in and it’s Snafu. He opens his eyes and it’s Snafu, every sense just flooded with Snafu and it intoxicates him. Eugene strokes his hands through Snafu's hair and searches his eyes. "Why are we like this?" 

In the dim light, Eugene notices the expression on Snafu’s face shift, just a fraction and he instantly regrets asking. In his mind, it had sounded very different. He’s about to take it back when Snafu’s face softens again but the quirks of his lips isn’t humour.

"Part of me don't even wanna question it.” He says slowly. His hand comes up to the side of Eugene’s face, thumb brushing over his ear and Eugene leans into it automatically. “Cause if we weren’t, then this wouldn’t be happenin’ an’ we wouldn’t’ve just done what we done." He trails off, suddenly looking unsure. “I’m just sayin’...I ain’t gonna regret this.”

Warmth rushes through Eugene and he shoves forward to attack Snafu’s mouth in a deep and desperate kiss. Somewhere during it, he mumbles out the words “me too” and then their hands are back in each other’s hair, holding each other close. Their bodies slide together but it’s not like before, there’s no rush, no pent up need, no goal to reach, just pure physical affection. 

It slows down naturally, until Eugene slides most of his weight off Snafu and their kiss becomes relaxed, almost lazy. Warm and surrounded, he starts to feel that heaviness pulling at him and it’s perfect. Snafu’s skin pressed against his own, the softness of his lips, his gradually slowing breaths lulling him.

Snafu becomes less responsive and Eugene realises that he’s starting to drift with him. Eugene pulls his head away and lays onto the pillow so they’re next to each other, shoulders still touching.

“Think you’ll sleep?” Eugene dares to whisper. Snafu only hums at him quietly and shifts to drag Eugene closer to him. Eugene lets his eyes close to settle with him. A few moments later, he hears Snafu speak softly again, the words sounding distant as he drifts closer to unconsciousness.

"No nightmares tonight, alright?" 

"I'll do my best." 

...

"Snaf." Eugene feels bad for having to shake him awake when he’s sleeping so soundly but he has no choice. Snafu grunts and tries to shove him away at first but he shakes him again. “Snaf.”

Snafu's eyes blink open slowly to. "Hmm?" He grunts sleepily, eyes drooping shut again.

"You gotta go before my parents get up, c'mon." Eugene hisses, shaking him again. Snafu swats at him and rubs his eyes. 

"What time is it?" He grumbles, trying to sit up. Eugene shifts to allow him room.

"Early." Eugene tells him. He climbs out of the bed, pulls his shirt off and walks to the mirror. Craning his neck, he can make out the remaining teeth marks that Snafu had left on him from last night. The skin around it is still red. "Fuck." He turns to Snafu, eyes murderous. "What the fuck, Snaf?"

Snafu squints at him a moment and then Eugene can tell when he’s spotted it because then he appears to be fighting the urge to laugh. “Had to keep quiet somehow an’ my hands were a little busy keepin’ you covered." He shrugs pointedly. Eugene wants to throw something at him.

"How in hell am I gonna hide this?" Eugene turns back to the mirror and worries his bottom lip while rubbing at the marks as though they might come off like a stain. “Shit.”

He hears Snafu approach him from behind and a warm hand rests on his waist. He pushes Eugene’s hand away to scrutinise the damage. Eugene watches him in the the mirror and is certain the expression of Snafu’s face is more of pride than anything else. He dips his head to press his lips to the marks and his eyes look up to meet Eugene’s in the reflection. Eugene’s glare is not one of amusement and the grin that spreads across Snafu’s face only infuriates him more. Snafu’s fingers trail lower to similar marks along his chest and stomach and the fond smile he makes is only just enough to stop Eugene from saying what he wants to.

Snafu lets go of him to rifle through Eugene’s wardrobe, pulling out a fresh shirt and returning to him, opening it out to help Eugene slide it on. Eugene follows when Snafu’s hands spin him around to face him and he watches Snafu’s face while he fastens up the buttons for him, right up to the collar and then turns him back around. 

“There.” Snafu says, fondling the collar until it sits right. “Who’s gonna know?” 

"Exactly what I was referring to when I said we need to be careful, Snaf." Eugene sighs.

"Alright, alright." His hands clasp Eugene’s shoulders and his mouth comes somewhere near his ear. "I won't do it on your neck anymore." He promises and kisses the place just beneath his ear gently. He changes back into his own trousers before heading back to the window.

"I am gonna get some proper clothes.” He says, climbing up onto the window seat. “An’ I'm working up at that little farmhouse near the town. Could use an extra set of hands if you're interested, pay is pretty good." Snafu suggests to him, hovering near the window for a response.

"I uhh...maybe." Eugene responds hesitantly. Snafu watches him carefully for a couple more seconds and then clambers out of the window, much less quietly than he’s usually able and it makes Eugene wince when he hears one of Snafu’s feet make a scraping sound as though he lost his footing.

"Catch ya later, Sledgehamma." He mumbles, saluting him casually.

...

He has never eaten breakfast more carefully and with as few movements as he does that morning. He barely turns his head and spends more time watching his parents cautiously for any sign that they have noticed anything.

Every time Eugene moves, he can feel an ache right where Snafu bit him, the collar of his shirt chaffs against it, making it burn. When he touches it, it feels warm. He can't tell if he’s just imagining being able to actually feel some of the indentations but the idea sends a simultaneous jolt of anxiety and excitement through him. Of course, Snafu had loved it, he’s exactly the type to be possessive enough to mark him. It’s far too risky to be able to let him do it again but as annoyed as Eugene is at him for doing it anyway, he does find himself touching it absently every time Snafu enters his thoughts. It makes him realise just how often that actually is.

“Eugene?” 

He’s snaps back to the present and rips his hand away from his neck. “Hmm?”

Will Mr Shelton be joining us for dinner this evening?”

Shit.

“Mama, you don’t gotta call him that, Merriell is just fine.” Eugene corrects, partly just to buy him some time to reply. “I...ain’t seen him yet,” he lies quickly. Neither of them know he has and he’s gotta be so much more careful about being caught out with stuff like that. Consistency, he thinks. He can’t afford any slip ups.

“Well when you do, be sure to ask him. I’ll have them lay out an extra place for him, just in case.” She tells him. There’s always this reserved air about her when she talks about Snafu. Even through her smile, he gets this feeling like she’s pretending not to notice a bad smell. “Your brother will be coming down with Martha a little earlier and I’m sure they’d all love to meet him too.”

Eugene sighs in defeat. He appreciates their efforts but it’s obvious they don’t want him here and Snafu is not designed to fit in with the types of people his parents are, that's just how it is. Snafu doesn’t seem to know how to be anywhere outside of a battlefield anymore. And maybe they can accept his friendship with the seasoned marine but they certainly would not be able to accept what their friendship is morphing into and the idea of having Snafu around here just feels like tempting fate, as far as their new secret life is concerned.

After breakfast, he battles with himself multiple times about whether or not to go down to the farm where Snafu is working. It’s not the kind of work he wants to be doing but he needs time to decide what that is exactly. In the mean time, it’s better than nothing. His mother is clearly holding her tongue about it for now but she won't stay patient forever. He also doesn't want his parents or anyone to start noticing how much time he’s spending with Snafu but at the same time, helping him with work could be a good excuse for them to see more of each other. This could be a useful cover.

He decides to go. The servants had left him lunch again, as they often do now he’s out a lot during the day and Eugene packs it up to take with him, adding some extra for Snafu. He wonders to himself about this, if he didn't take extra food, how much would Snafu actually bother to take proper care of himself? But Eugene doesn’t provide him with every meal so he’s got to be eating elsewhere when he’s not around but considering how thin Snafu is, maybe he’s not. Eugene has stopped trying to ask him about it now, every time he does, Snafu tends to get irritable and snap that he’s fine. Sometimes Eugene sneaks food up at night and the way Snafu wolfs it down does nothing to stop him from worrying.

Snafu is standing on what’s left of the farmers roof when Eugene arrives. He stands to attention, salutes him and then immediately follows that with a shit eating grin and the middle finger. He disappears into the gap in the roof and then Eugene sees him walking out the front door a couple of minutes later. He’s shirtless and sweating hard in the heavy midday sun. He tries to ignore the way his ribs are a little easier to make out

"Nice timin' Sledgehamma." He greets briskly. "Just about to start on the heavy stuff." He saunters up to him and leans in a bit. "How's the neck?" He asks with a grin that’s full of far too much enjoyment.

"Sore." Eugene glares at him pointedly. He holds up the packed food. "Eat this later then?" 

Eugene follows Snafu’s lead into the house and up into what’s left of the attic, where the sun beams down on them through the giant hole. The owner of the house is waiting for them up there. He’s a fairly short, stocky man, balding and Eugene thinks he looks kind stern.

"You're Sledge, huh?" The man holds his hand out to shake and Eugene takes it. "Shelton here says you two served together, that right?" Eugene affirms this and the guy nods to himself. "We gotta clear all this here debris, then we can bring all the new wood up. Probably won't get that done today but we will need to cover up this gap before the day’s done. Don’t look like it'll rain any time soon but best not to risk it."

The three of them get to work, clearing the huge planks of wood and dirt. Some of the lumps require two of them to lift but most of it they can throw off the roof to the ground below. It’s touch but good work. It feels good to be doing something useful. He won’t deny his mother is right about how finding work will be good for him but he still needs the time to figure out what work he wants that to be. As good as this feels, it isn’t it.

When they stop to eat, the old farmer fetches them some fresh, cold water and tells them he’ll be back in a little while to cover the gap and finish up for the day. Snafu is already tucking into his food when Eugene returns from washing his hands. He glances at Eugene, mouth full and holds up the bag for him to take his own.

The moment Eugene takes a seat next to him, Snafu is tugging at the collar of his shirt to get a look at the bite mark he left. Of course he is straight in there to admire his work. Snafu lets out a low whistle as Eugene tries to shrug him off, glaring at Snafu instead but he only receives a short laugh in return. Snafu’s fingers gently trace over the marks before Eugene shoves him away.

"It's a good look on you." Snafu drawls lazily, lips quirking into a fond smile but he lets his hand fall back to his side. "Colour matches your hair." 

"Fuck off, Snafu." Eugene bites, not sounding nearly as fed up as he tries. He gets a few bites of his food in silence. Snafu has almost finished his own already. He eats so damn fast. Eugene offers him some of his share but Snafu declines, as he knew he would. He does wish Snafu would eat more, even if just to put his own mind at rest. Then Eugene suddenly remembers. "Shit, you got any plans tonight?"

"Why, you thinkin' of takin' me out on a date?" Snafu jokes around his last mouthful of food. 

"Cute.” Eugene scowls. “No, my mama's havin' this dinner for a friend of mine who's comin' to visit. Sid Phillips, I think you know him?"

"Name rings a bell." Snafu notes carelessly, lighting up a smoke.

"Well, anyway, he's comin' down with his fiancée, sortin’ out stuff for the wedding and she wants you to be there." Eugene says passively.

Snafu snorts. "You're kiddin' right?" He glances at Eugene as though waiting for him to crack up and punch him in the shoulder. When Eugene doesn’t, he adds "Your mama wants me to go to a formal dinner?"

"Not really formal, just family and friends, so..."

"I'm only a friend to you.” Snafu bites. “Your parents don’t want me there-”

"Look I'm just tellin' you what she asked me to. It's up to you if you come or not." Eugene snaps hotly.

Snafu gulps down his water. Eugene rolls his eyes. Snafu can be so damn head strong at times. Eugene knows his parents haven’t exactly given him fair chance so far and clearly Snafu has picked up on these unfair feelings but he’s not exactly throwing himself in to win over their favour either. "Do you want me there?" 

"Ain’t up to me." Eugene says simply.

"The hell it ain't." Snafu replies, throwing the empty water bottle to the side and holding his cigarette back up to his lips. "Ain’t goin’ anywhere you don't want me." 

Eugene smiles lightly despite himself. "You’re a stubborn fuck, Shelton."

"That mean you want me there?" Snafu repeats but Eugene can see the hardness leave his eyes.

"Of course." Eugene says and then eyes him warningly. "But you best play nice, or you'll be dealing with me."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Snafu flirts naughtily. Eugene frowns and butts him with his shoulder, the smile on his lips betraying his resolve. Snafu chuckles and leans against him for a moment. "You’re gonna get sick of seein' me, y’know."

"I hope so." Eugene replies sweetly. Snafu scoffs and thumps him in the shoulder again but just before he stands up, Eugene catches the little half smile that twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Wanna head into the town after you get paid?” Eugene asks, sobering up. “Good chance to get some clothes.”

“An’ just where am I supposed to keep ‘em?” Snafu question’s, flinging the butt of his smoke out through the hole in the roof.

“Well, I got a couple draws I can clear out to make a little room.” Eugene supplies before hurriedly tagging “if you want” onto the end.

Snafu turns and looks at him silently for a few seconds. When he speaks, there’s something uncertain in his posture. “You want me to keep stuff at your place?”

“Well you basically live there already.” Eugene tires to wave it off like it’s nothing. “And it won’t be much, I ain’t got the room for much but I think I can account for a couple shirts and a new toothbrush.”

There’s an expression on Snafu’s face that Eugene wishes he could ask about but the old farmer returns to finish off for the day and they have to cease the conversation. It doesn’t take long to cover up the gap in the roof and it leaves them with a couple of hours before Eugene’s parents will be expecting people for dinner. He pays them both for the day’s work and promises to pay the rest when they’re finished. Eugene tries to get Snafu to take his share of the pay but he won’t even hear it. There’s also a dangerous glint in his eye that makes Eugene drop the subject pretty quickly and stuff his cash in his own pocket.

...

Eugene doesn’t have time to stay with Snafu the whole time he’s shopping, if he turns up late to dinner with the clothes he’s got on, his mother will faint. 

“Alright, we eat around half seven so come any time before that.” Eugene reminds and Snafu nods with a roll of his eyes. “You won’t be late?”

“Go home, Sledgehamma.” Snafu sighs with a quirk of one eyebrow. “I’ll see ya tonight.” 

Eugene takes home the two pairs of dungarees and pack of underwear that Snafu buys while he’s with him, leaving him to get the rest by himself. He has a secret idea that Snafu may not return with much regarding shirts and that’s because he’s pretty sure that Snafu has a soft spot for wearing his clothes. Not that Eugene minds, in fact, he loves it, especially now that Snafu is making a more consistent amount of money, he’s been taking his clothes to the laundrette up in the town and Eugene hasn’t had to worry about how to sneak the extra clothes in with their own laundry.

He has just enough time to sort out the two draws for Snafu, take a quick shower and get himself into some fresh clothes before his brother, Edward Jr arrives with his wife, Martha. Eugene greets them but returns to his bedroom to finish moving his stuff around until Sid and his fiancée, Mary, arrive a short while later. 

Eugene slams into his best friend the moment he gets down the stairs, taking Sid into a rough hug, momentarily forgetting himself but when he pulls back, Sid is grinning from ear to ear and he shakes his hand enthusiastically. Mary greets him with a kiss on the cheek and a sweet smile which Eugene returns. Sid starts to speak but Eugene’s mother ushers them into the living room to greet the others before they can get into it. Everyone hands around drinks and makes small talk pleasantly while Eugene's mother flits around, trying to make sure everyone has anything they could possibly need.

"Mama please." Edward Jr chides as his mother wafts past for the umpteenth time. "Come and sit down with us. Relax for just two seconds." 

But of course, their mother does not sit down, nor does she relax. She flusters and faffs around, trying to perfect things that don't need perfecting. 

"Eugene." She calls, coming back into the room with a tray of empty water glasses. "What time should we be expectin’ Mr Sh-Merriell?" 

"I told him what time we’ll be sittin’ down to eat, I’m sure he’ll be here soon." Eugene answers distractedly, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. As if he hasn't been side eyeing the door nervously every few seconds for the past half hour, wondering when the knock will come.

"Merriell?' Sid queries with a frown, snapping Eugene’s glance to him. "Shelton?"

"Yeah." Eugene answers, feeling suddenly wary. He knows that Sid and Snafu fought together before even Eugene, himself had met him but he just now realises that he doesn’t know exactly how well they know each other, or what terms that was on. It’s enough to tie a knot in his gut that makes him slouch a little uncomfortably.

"What is he comin' here for?" Sid presses, a little indelicately and it does nothing to ease Eugene’s concern.

"He's a friend of Eugene's." His mother answers before Eugene can speak. "Do you two know each other also?" 

"Yeah, yeah I know him." Sid says no more on the matter but there’s an uneasiness in his shoulders that Eugene doesn’t like one bit. Just what exactly is it about learning Snafu will be here that’s made Sid so uncomfortable?

When the knock on the door finally comes, Eugene is up out of his chair and opening the door before his mother can even look in that direction. He’s greeted with a cleanly dressed Snafu, in what looks like a new shirt, a pale grey button down with the first few buttons left undone and a dark pair of trousers, Eugene can't tell if they’re blue or black in this light. He sports no jacket as usual but at least he’s presentable. 

"Evenin' Sledgehamma." Snafu says in a low voice, his face decorated with his trademark smirk as he leans on the door frame. "Damn you look fine tonight." 

Eugene chances a glance behind him to see if anyone heard before turning back to glare at Snafu with intense warning. He only has to look in his eyes for just a moment before he realises. "Are you fuckin’ drunk?" 

"Not nearly enough." Snafu dismisses, face unapologetic but his eyes suddenly won’t quite meet Eugene’s.

"Are you fuckin' serious right now?" He starts in but his mother interrupts, approaching them in the doorway.

"Merriell!" She greets, perhaps a little too warmly but Snafu doesn’t seem to notice. "Glad you could join us. Come in, come in! I hope you're hungry." She ushers them both inside and shuts the door. Eugene watches as Snafu is introduced to his brother and his wife, shaking their hands and exchanging names. If any of them can tell he’s drunk, no one shows any sign of it. 

"Shelton." Sid stands up and offers his hand politely. Snafu nods at him and accepts the hand shake. Sid doesn’t say much but introduces him to his fiancée who's hand he takes to place a kiss on the back of. Snafu doesn’t act different around Sid so it seems the awkwardness is a one sided thing and Snafu doesn’t appear to have picked up on it. Eugene can’t decide if he should be relieved by this or not.

"Would you care for a drink, Merriell?" Eugene's father asks, gesturing to their drinks cabinet.

"He'll have water." Eugene cuts in before Snafu can get a good look. Snafu smirks in his direction but doesn’t press for a drink. There’s a twitch in his jaw that irks Eugene but he does nothing about it. He doesn’t want to create an atmosphere here, not tonight but there’s no way he can let Snafu get another drink here.

The dinner itself goes well enough. Eugene's mother asks a million and one questions about the wedding and Eugene can tell she’s excited to get as much information out of them as possible. It dominates the conversation throughout the entire meal. Sid would have expected this, Eugene thinks. They seem happy enough to answer everything and really it’s a relief.

Snafu is mostly silent except when spoken to, which after the first night he was here, his mother seems to have decided against asking questions regarding the war. In fact, she doesn’t ask him much at all really but with Snafu drunk as he is, Eugene can’t help but feel it’s a better idea. He’s pretty sure it’s not a personal snub, there is a lot of other talk going on and Eugene ain’t stupid enough to believe Snafu was invited for anyone else than him. Though the hope that they’re just preoccupied with Sid and Mary is the only thing keeping his heart rate closer to normal. Snafu keeps sending him little glances every now and then, the corners of his mouth twitch just enough for Eugene to notice but it’s enough to have his eyes darting around the table in paranoia. He’s not sure if Snafu was always going to be this quiet or if the multiple warning glares Eugene has been burning into him throughout the entire meal were enough to get him to seal his lips.

And why the fuck is he even drunk? Eugene asked him if he wanted to come, he could have just as easily turned him down. Is this some fucked up mind game he’s trying with him? Because Eugene doesn’t want to play. He cares a hell of a lot about Snafu, more than he maybe should and his parents haven’t been entirely fair to him so far but this is also his family and he is not going to be forced to pick sides here.

He becomes aware of everyone’s eyes on him and he looks around wondering what he’s missed. “What?”

A few small laughs. “He can get so lost in his thoughts sometimes.” His mother says as if trying to excuse him. She gestures to the servants that it’s okay to clear their plates away.

“No, it alright.” Sid says with a smile and then turns back to Eugene. "Think you could take me to get a look at Deacon’s grave?" He asks, placing his cutlery down and pushing the plate a little way from him. Eugene guesses by the way everyone was watching him, this isn’t the first time he’s asked that. The room falls quiet, save for the sounds of the plates clacking as the servants start to clear them away. "If it’s alright with you, I’d like to see it." 

Eugene can feel Snafu’s eyes on him more intensely than any of the others as he nods slowly. His mother stands and invites everyone else through to the lounge for drinks. Snafu looks to him as though he doesn’t know who he should be following but Eugene nudges his head in the direction of his parents and Snafu nods his understanding and makes to follow the others. He doesn’t look too thrilled though. 

When Eugene turns away, Sid is waiting for him to lead them both into the grounds. Eugene leads him out through the back into the yard. The cool evening air feels nice on his skin after the time in a stuffy room full of people. 

"So, ain't Mary how you remember her?" He starts, following Eugene through the doorway and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Ain't she just, you lucky bastard." Eugene jokes but his smile is genuine. "I'm really happy for you, both of you. Never thought I'd say it but you make a great couple."

"Me neither." Sid admits with a short laugh. "I still can't quite believe that someone like her would agree to marry a guy like me."

"Slim pickin’s for strappin’ fellas round here, Phillips.” Eugene thumps him in the shoulder playfully. “You jus’ consider yourself lucky.”

Sid rolls his eyes. “What about you?” He asks, swatting Eugene’s side. “Any lovely ladies linin’ up for a piece’a Corporal Eugene Sledge?”

Eugene’s exaggerated huff reads amusement but he looks away, feeling his heart jump up into his throat and he’s glad when they reach Deacon’s grave, distracting Sid enough that he doesn’t press the question further.

“Damn.” Sid sighs when he looks down at the small grave. “Remember years ago, we used to run around here with ‘im? He weren’t a big dog but he sure could shift.” He crouches down and pats the grave symbolically. “Rest in peace, little fella.” 

Eugene rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. Deacon was almost as big a part of Sid’s childhood memories as he was his but he’d never really considered that his death would have any kind of effect on him. Maybe it’s just another reminder of old times gone, another part of their previous lives that has come to an end. It feels more and more like this as time goes now, their lives before the war and their lives now and they can’t go back. There’s no way back.

"So...uh...what's up with Shelton?" Sid asks, getting back up to his feet. He doesn’t change the subject very smoothly at all and Eugene suddenly gets the feeling that there was a lot more to Sid wanting to come out here with him than to see the grave of his dead dog.

"What d'ya mean?" He asks cautiously, his mind racing to figure out what the aim is here. Gotta be steps ahead if he wants to avoid stumbling over his words and risk getting caught in lies and half truths.

"What's he doin' here?" Sid’s eyes are on him and Eugene feels way too exposed right now, this is too close to dangerous territory.

"He's got some work around the area." He tries, looking around him as though he might find something else to bring their attention too.

"Why?" Goddamnit Sid, Eugene thinks helplessly.

"Uh, just where he’s layin’ his hat for now, I guess.” Eugene shrugs a little defensively. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling like Sid’s interrogating him but he’s not exactly sure what his crime is supposed to have been.

"I’m just not sure he’s the right guy to have around here right now." Sid warns quietly. "I didn't talk to him that much back in Cape but the guy seemed like a complete asshole."

"Hey, he's not an asshole." Eugene defends immediately. Sid drops his head forward a touch, concentrating his gaze.

"He's barely said two words to anybody this evenin'." He hisses. Sid’s always been the reserved but polite type, perfect for family gatherings like this. Of course he doesn’t get it, Eugene thinks bitterly.

"He's been through a lot of shit, we both have.” Eugene says. “You should be able to understand that." 

"I also understand that your parents are worried about you. They want to see that you're coping. I saw some of the shit he did over there, okay?" He leans in a little more. “Not to mention some of the shit I heard.”

"Stop!" Eugene warns, eying him sharply. "’Less you can honestly say you ain’t done one single fucked up thing out there too. He wasn’t the only guy who left the war with a pocket full of Jap gold, alright?” If Sid is gonna take this much issue with stuff like that, how would he feel knowing that Eugene himself had nearly done that too, or any of the stuff he’d done over there?

“What? No, I could give a shit about that.” Sid says and Eugene wants to look away, doesn’t wanna give Sid the chance to see the spike of confusion and curiosity that he’s pretty sure just lit up his face. “I’m talking about...y’know.”

Sid looks at him expectantly but Eugene’s mind is blank. 

“I’m talking about the men.” Sid’s voice drops even lower at the last word and Eugene’s heart beats in his throat. “Apparently he earned himself a bit of a reputation before K Company.”

Eugene shakes his head in disbelief. There’s no way. He spent more time over there with Snafu, he’d have heard something if Sid did in the short time he served with him. “You fuckin’ serious?”

Sid seems to mistake his words as expressing shock towards the allegations and not at the fact he’s saying this at all. “Look, I don’t wanna have to be tellin’ ya this shit but guys like him,” he points in the direction of Eugene’s house, “they get found out an’ I don’t want that shit findin’ it’s way into your family and causin’ trouble.”

Eugene can’t speak. What Sid is saying, it makes no sense. Snafu was never accused of anything, the whole time Eugene has known him, no one has ever, not even _he_ questioned anything about Snafu. He doesn’t have time to settle on that though, Sid is too close with this subject. If Eugene thought the start of this conversation was dangerous territory, then this is positively stepping into the mouth of the beast, itself. His mind whirls. He’s gotta stop this. 

“I don’t know what you heard.” Eugene says slowly, forcing his voice even, trying his best to keep the stutter out of it. “But I know Snafu, he’s not-”

He’s not even sure where he was going to go with that but one glance at Sid’s eyes suddenly looking past him, has Eugene turning sharply on the spot and a spike of panic imbeds itself into his gut when his eyes fall on none other than the man in question. 

Snafu stares at them blankly, eyes flicking between them. He’s standing halfway between them and the house but the grass must have silenced his footsteps. His shoulders are slightly sunk and it makes him look small but the weight of his presence hangs over them eerily. His eyes stop on Eugene and he feels himself shrink under his gaze. “Never wrote you down as another gossipin’ broad like ya pal, Phillips.” He speaks directly to Eugene, not even so much as glancing at Sid, who lets out a little huff that almost sounds amused but Eugene knows perfectly well that it’s anything but.

“No, come on.” Eugene steps forward, frowning, wishing he could remove the image of Snafu shaking his head at him in disappointment. “Snaf, you know that’s not-”

“No, don’t let me interrupt." Snafu says cuttingly, throwing his hands up and starting to back away.

The spike in his gut twists and Eugene makes to follow him.

"Let him go." Sid tells Eugene, placing a hand on his shoulder when he does.

"Yeah, Gene, let me go." Snafu repeats childishly, spinning back round to face them and throwing his arms out animatedly. "Cause he knows more about who you need ‘round you. S’why he’s been here visitin’ you so often-oh wait."

"That’s not fair." Sid says, voice low, turning to face Snafu.

"Fuck you." Snafu snaps at him in the coldest, bluntest voice Eugene has heard from him in a long time. “You bring him out here to spread petty gossip, for what?”

“Ain’t just gossip though.” Sid replies and the confidence in his words is too much. All of this is too much. Eugene can barely breathe for the pounding in his chest. “Is it?”

Snafu doesn’t say anything at first but the smile, that’s really more of a grimace on his face, tells of nothing but danger. “What if it ain’t?”

Eugene’s head snaps back to Snafu with the most intense warning glare he can muster. There can’t be truth to this. There can’t be. Did Snafu already know about this? About what Sid is talking about?

“An’ you think Eugene needs talk like that around here?” Sid’s voice is even but Eugene is almost certain he’s keeping it so for him. 

“S’funny ‘cause you’re the only one chewin’ it like that ‘round here.” Snafu counters accusingly. "The fuck you really know about what Eugene needs?"

"I know he don't need any of this!" Sid snaps and gestures in front of him, his voice raising considerably. 

“I’m standin’ right here.” Eugene glares between the two of them, forgetting himself and the weight of all of this for a moment. Both of them are arguing over him like parents fighting over what’s right for their fucking kid. 

At the sound of movement, his parents appear in the doorway and step down, no doubt having heard the raised voices. He can make out his mothers wide eyes on them, horrified and it makes his cheeks burn strangely. This is certainly going to have ruined her dinner, he thinks sarcastically. More footsteps and it only gets worse as it seems everyone has heard the commotion as they all start to appear in the doorway. Eugene's brother moves in front of his parents, a deep crease in his eyebrows.

"What the hell is goin' on-" He tries to ask but Snafu cuts him off, not even turning to look at him. Eugene sees Sid eye the others but Snafu doesn't appear to have noticed them, that or he doesn't care.

"Oh right." Snafu goes on, taking a few steps towards them but eyes only for Sid, which apparently is threatening enough to him that he takes a couple of steps back. Eugene notices his brother shifting closer in the corner of his eye and he tenses up automatically. This is going too far. "Cause when you compare this to the last four years, wading up to our asses in blood, shit and _God_ knows what else-"

“Snaf.” Eugene has not spoken about their time over there, not in front of his parents. He can’t. They can’t know what he faced, even if they know, he can’t let them truly _know._ And Snafu is undoing all of that in one inebriated rant. He moves himself half in front of Sid but Snafu just tries to look around him. 

"-Gettin’ torn apart by mortars and thinkin' we were gonna eat the dirt at any God damned second but yeah, this is just an awful way for Eugene to be livin' this-"

Eugene grabs at Snafu’s shoulders the moment he moves to push past to get closer to Sid.

“An’ you wanna get into these rumours of what I done over there cause that’s where the _really_ good stuff begins-”

" _Snafu, that's enough!_ " Eugene shouts, shoving him back to break his line to Sid. Everything falls silent. Eugene’s hands shake but he grips them in an attempt to keep steady as his eyes bore into Snafu’s, pinning him furiously. Snafu glares back for a moment, challenging him but Eugene refuses to back down. Does he not realise the danger he’s putting them both in with the shit he’s saying? “Stop.” 

For a moment, Eugene is sure that Snafu is going to start on him too as his eyes hold him stubbornly but then slowly, he sees the fire leave his eyes and it’s replaced by something much worse. _Hurt._

Without a word, Snafu nods, tightening his mouth into a thin line and turning on the spot. He pauses for a brief moment upon seeing everyone behind him but then he surges past them towards the side of the house. None of them try to stop him.

"Snafu, wait." Eugene knows Snafu will ignore him but he calls out anyway. He watches Snafu disappear around towards the front exit.

"The hell was all that about?" Eugene's brother hisses. He doesn’t know why he’s trying to be discrete about it, after that display. Eugene just shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Eugene." Sid starts to say. "I didn't mean-"

"Don't." Eugene speaks softly but there must be something in his voice because Sid backs off without so much as a sigh. He doesn’t want to look at any of them, he can feel all their eyes on him. It’s suffocating and he can’t fucking stand it. He pushes his fingers through his hair and makes to follow Snafu, shrugging off his brother when he throws an arm out to halt him.


	7. Chapter 7

As Eugene reaches the entrance of his front yard, he just about spots Snafu’s slim shape stalking off into the eerily dark woods. He breaks into a jog to try and keep him in sight. If Snafu is heading to the fields or the creek, it might be better to let him get closer to them, farther away from where people can hear them.

He tries to shake that expression on Snafu’s face from his mind but it haunts him. He’d wanted something from Eugene but what did he expect him to do? Snafu had been like a cornered animal back there and when met with conflict, he behaved like all cornered animals do, he’d turned aggressive. Then he’d looked to the only other source of back up he could get. Eugene. And when Eugene hadn’t delivered on that, he’d bolted.

Snafu doesn’t like these kinds of affairs, Eugene knows this. Snafu only agreed to come here for Eugene, he knows this too. And really, why would he want to come here? Snafu doesn’t talk much about his home life but it’s easy for Eugene to guess that it’s no replica of his own. He’s out of his comfort zone here and Eugene has a secret feeling that, while Snafu might think his parents look down on him, it’s actually Snafu himself who thinks he’s below Eugene’s family, maybe even below Eugene himself.

And overhearing Sid’s words was only going to fuel those feelings, to hear someone else saying he doesn’t belong here, that it’s not good for Eugene to have him around. And of course, Sid doesn’t know just how ‘around’ Eugene that Snafu is but he’s pretty sure that Snafu is still going to consider it in that regard too, meaning that in his ears, he’s hearing that he’s not good enough for Eugene. Tie that with the insecurities he already has about all of this and it’s suddenly easier to understand where Snafu stands in all of this. The outsider. The unwanted burden.

"Snaf!" He calls after him but Snafu ignores him. Eugene sighs, he’s such a stubborn bastard. "Snafu wait."

Eugene catches up to him just as they are nearing the creek. Snafu makes no move to slow down as he storms forward. If he can just get him to stop and look at him but Snafu is holding strong, remaining difficult. This will get them nowhere, Eugene thinks, aggravated. He reaches out and grabs his shoulder.

"Don't fuckin' touch me!" Snafu’s head snaps to the side and he rounds on Eugene, his eyes wide and dangerous, nostrils flaring as he throws his arm off his shoulder. He pushes into Eugene’s space, as if daring him to try and touch him again.

"You don't scare me." Eugene grits, forcing himself to square up, pressing even closer to Snafu. Sid may have stepped back under his glare but he will certainly not. "The fuck you want from me back there?" 

"I want?" Snafu snorts and looks around as if in disbelief at the question. “You listen to any o’ that back there?”

“I heard you goin’ the fuck off at Sid.” Eugene says pointedly, already knowing that’s not what Snafu was referring to. Snafu’s face darkens impossibly further.

“That shit he was sayin’.” Snafu says, gesturing at nothing in particular. “Stuff about ‘guys like him’, guys who do what we do, guys like me an’ you, Gene.”

“I don’t think he was-” Snafu cuts off Eugene’s attempt at a defence before he can even make it.

“You think you ain’t like the guys he was talkin’ about?” Snafu bites, gesturing wildly. “You think for one damn second that he wouldn’t turn his back the moment he knew what we been doin’?”

“Do you know anybody that wouldn’t do the same exact thing?” Eugene says and it’s supposed to sound reasonable but he’s too angry for anything to feel level-headed just now. “There’s a reason we keep that shit secret, Snaf. Runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth only put everythin’ we got here at risk.”

"Someone gotta stand on our fuckin’ side!” Snafu spits. “You could’a had my back, ‘stead’a cuttin’ at me in front of everyone like some bad fuckin’ kid."

"Maybe if you didn’t fuckin’ act like one!” Eugene retorts, patience wearing thin. “I mean, fuck, Snaf, you turn up half shot in the hopes of what? You really think that would win them over?"

" _You_ wanted me to be there!" Snafu snarls but Eugene sees something in his eyes, the fire in them is dimming, turning into a kind of desperation.

"My _parents_ wanted you there!” Eugene presses further, gesturing back while moving forward again. This time Snafu leans back, only a little but it’s enough for Eugene to notice. “They asked, not me. An’ hell, you’re always blowin’ off about how they don’t like ya, I figured this could’a been your chance to change that."

"I don't need them to like me." Snafu defends through gritted teeth but it sounds weak in Eugene’s ears. Still, Snafu leans in even closer, teeth baring but Eugene is too pissed to cripple under it.

"Well, you made damn sure they wouldn't after tonight, you fuckin’ asshole." He yells instead and it’s enough to spark a little fire back in Snafu’s eyes.

"Fuck you, Gene." Snafu snaps and shoves him in the shoulder, a weak last attempt at defiance, barely hard enough to knock Eugene back a step but it’s enough to make him see red.

"Fuck you too!" Eugene shoves him back even harder, throwing his weight into it, sending Snafu stumbling back but as he does, he loses his footing and falls onto the grass beneath them.

Everything freezes for a moment, nothing but the sounds of their heavy breaths. Snafu just looks at him, wide eyes a mixture of surprise and caution, his jaw is locked so damn tight, Eugene imagines he can hear teeth creaking under the strain. The moment he saw Snafu’s feet go from under him, he regretted his outburst. Angry as he is, he didn’t mean to do that and in the next second, he’s stepping forward, fully intending to lean down and help Snafu up.

And then there’s movement from Snafu, swiping his offered hand away and lurching forward, clumsy but determined and for a fleeting moment, Eugene is certain Snafu is about try and attack him again, hands clawing at his waist, using his shirt to drag himself up to his knees. When he’s able to register Snafu’s actions, he realises that while violent, they’re not set with the intent to _hurt_ him.

Eugene doesn’t know which is more desperate, his own shaking hands tugging at the belt buckle of his own trousers or Snafu’s eager one’s slapping his away to do it himself. Eugene grasps Snafu’s shoulder with one hand and digs angry nails in hard enough to earn him a satisfying hiss and a sharp glare from those same wide eyes. 

The first flash of cold air against the burning skin of his cock has him sighing and Snafu reaches in to tug him out while Eugene drags those digging nails around to the back of Snafu’s head, pushing into his curls, commanding him to continue. Snafu throws another glance up at him and licks his lips roughly, leaving far too much moisture behind for it to be a subconscious move. Snafu strokes the length of him once, twice and then he’s pressing the head at them slick lips.

Snafu takes him into the wet heat of his mouth, knocking the wind out of Eugene at first and he almost buckles with the force of it. Unable to resist, he presses himself forward firmly until he hears a little uncertain sound at the back of Snafu’s mouth, feels that throat automatically contract around the thickness of him. Snafu pulls himself away momentarily, those eyes now looking more vulnerable than before but he says nothing as he licks his lips again as if readjusting his mind for a task that’s gonna go a little differently than how he might’ve predicted. And Eugene will never admit to how satisfying it is to finally knock the concept of words right out of his smartass mouth.

He pulls Snafu’s head back onto his cock, pressing in deep like before until those small whines reach his ears again and Snafu’s hands grip at his thighs in an attempt to steady himself just in time for Eugene to start thrusting his hips, embedding himself into Snafu’s throat over and over again. Snafu takes him well, Eugene can’t deny. And perhaps it’s the undeniable anger in his actions that has Snafu allowing him to be this rough or maybe there’s something else in there altogether. The sounds at the back of Snafu’s throat aren’t entirely ones of discomfort and Eugene wonders just how much he’s secretly enjoying this. He can feel Snafu’s throat working, trying to push the intrusion away and triggering his gag reflex at his sharper thrusts. He lets Snafu pull back after a few minutes, his eyes streaming from the effort of it all. He doesn’t pull off completely though and keeps a little more than the head in his mouth, wrapping his hand around the rest of Eugene’s length to make up for it. 

Eugene’s hands tighten in his hair and he’s able to buck his hips harder like this, fucking the base of his cock against Snafu’s hand. He tugs on his hair sharply, revelling in the sharp hum he pulls from Snafu. The jerks of Eugene’s hips are angry and the grip of Snafu’s hand on his thigh knows it. Snafu doesn’t battle him, not for a second. He takes it just as Eugene gives it to him and the level of submissiveness tells him Snafu knows he fucked up, he knows Eugene is still pissed at him, that much is clear. This is about the closest thing to an apology that Eugene is gonna get and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the most of it.

And maybe it’s not fair, punishing him like this, when he’s taking it so willingly but every moment that Eugene thinks about easing up, Snafu let’s out the most obscene sound and allows him to slip deeper and fuck into his throat for a few moments, fresh tears streaming from his eyes and running down to meet the increasing trail of saliva working down his chin and Eugene only presses into the sensation instead. It feels so good, so damn good, _too_ good.

“You done this before.” It’s not a question. And Snafu averting his eyes is not an answer. Except that it is. The huff that Eugene can feel tickle his lower stomach and the blush that he can only just make out in the mild light of the moon suggests a level of discomfort at Eugene’s statement. But the jaw that only works to suck him harder and the shudder that visibly charges up Snafu’s back suggests a different feeling entirely.

And it’s all enough for Eugene’s hips to falter, for his grip on the back of Snafu’s head to tighten painfully. He’s got that tenseness in his thighs and that tingle in his gut that tells him this is all about to be over. There’s only so much he’s gonna put Snafu through at once and this has already been more than far enough. He drags Snafu’s head away from him just as his hips start to jerk and his breaths stutter. 

He’s about ready to take himself into hand and finish this damn thing but Snafu fights against him, letting out a protesting whine and grabbing Eugene’s hips to pull him back into his mouth. And he takes him _deep,_ eyes coming up to meet his with the most intense look of determination. And then Eugene isn’t even able to debate this with him because he feels Snafu give him one last hard suck and he’s done for. Eugene moans hard and his knees buckle a little, his hands dropping to Snafu’s shoulders, seeking support more than anything as his cock spasms and pulses into the willing mouth.

Snafu holds him steady while he comes down, breathing shakily. He leans down and kisses his head as Snafu fastens up his trousers for him and then sits back onto the grass again.

"I'm sorry." Eugene says, still panting and trying to even his voice out. He drops down next to Snafu, legs feeling like jelly. "I'm sorry, Snaf...for before, I-"

"Fuck it." Snafu’s voice is a little rough, wiping his mouth and chin on the back of his arm and pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. "Fuck if I care what they think of me too."

"Snaf, you don't have to-"

"Only ever care what you think of me, Gene," Snafu continues, removing his hands and looking at Eugene. "Before...the way you looked at me..." He shakes his head and guilt lumps in Eugene’s throat. He’s glad he couldn’t see whatever look he’d given him but he can’t help the small spike of curiosity. Whatever he’d done, it’d been enough to pull the fight out of Snafu and make him leave. Is it ironic that it was the look on Snafu’s face that made Eugene follow him without a second thought?

"It wasn’t just you.” Eugene sighs softly. “Sid had no right to say that."

"Maybe." Snafu agrees but then sighs. "Hell, he's probably right."

"About what?" Eugene frowns. His mind goes straight to these rumours Sid had mentioned and how Snafu hadn’t seemed the slightest bit surprised by them. Eugene isn’t foolish enough to believe rumours as they’re told, most of them have been warped in some way or another but after a performance like the one Snafu just given him, it’s obvious there’s some kind of story there. Snafu stares at his hands determinedly and won’t look at him.

"I ain't no good for you, Cher." Snafu huffs a laugh and oh, right, this is about the rest of what Sid had said. Eugene hadn’t forgot about it but he does feel a little guilty for dwelling on the other thing. "Nobody needs a fuck up like me around."

"Shut the fuck up." Eugene bites and this time, Snafu's laugh is genuine, if still small. He’s considerably more sober than he was back at the house. "Neither you or Sid get to decide what’s good for me."

Snafu rolls his eyes and shakes his head but doesn’t respond.

“I dunno if you’ve noticed.” Eugene says matter of factly. “But since we been doin’ what we doin’ I ain’t woken up screamin’ once. I need you around, Snaf. More than that, I want you around.”

"Don't go gettin' all mushy on me." Snafu groans. Eugene sighs. Snafu’s ability to turn everything that makes him uncomfortable into some kind of offhand joke is both impressive and infuriating. He connects the flat palm of his hand with Snafu’s chest and pushes him onto his back, quickly leaning over him before he can get free and pinning his wrists to the ground either side of his head. 

"Then take in what I say." He orders, leaning close to Snafu’s face and looking him in the eyes but the next time he speaks, it’s softer. "Hear it. Believe it. I need you. I want you." 

Snafu doesn't laugh this time but he averts his eyes. "More fool you then." 

Eugene watches him closely for a few seconds before speaking. "Can't you believe in anything good about yourself?"

"Who says I can't?" Snafu retorts, throwing his hips out in an attempt to throw Eugene off but it’s a weak effort and doesn’t work. Eugene leans down again.

"Gimme three things that you like about yourself." He persists.

Snafu pulls a face. "Shut the fuck up.”

"You can't do it, can you?"

"This is fuckin' stupid." Snafu wriggles beneath him, trying to take his arms back from under Eugene's weight but he wrestles him in place. Snafu turns his head stubbornly and huffs harshly. He seems genuinely irritated now.

"Do you know that you're smart?" Eugene asks, increasing the intensity in his own tone too. Snafu rolls his eyes and sneers. "That you're funny? That you're caring? Beautiful? Kind? Do you not believe me when I say that they're true?"

Snafu sighs again but it’s defeated. "I know you believe it and that's enough for me, Gene. Like I said, I only care what you think."

"But that shouldn't count for yourself too." Eugene argues and tries to fix Snafu with a deep look but he can’t get him to meet it. “Hell, Snaf, you survived a _war.”_

“You survived too, Cher-” Snafu points out as if that makes it final but the counter argument is already falling from Eugene’s lips before Snafu even finishes his sentence.

“I’m not the one who hates himself too much to take a damn compliment.”

"Can we stop talkin' about it?" Snafu all but begs at this point. Eugene leans down and kisses him hard, as if to make a point from it. At least Snafu is kissing him back, he thinks, that’s something. He wants to press it further, wants to make Snafu believe him but he knows he will only end up pissing him off if he doesn’t back off so he gives in with a sigh.

"It’s late." Eugene says, pulling away and relenting his hold on Snafu. "We should head back."

"Maybe I shouldn’t." Snafu starts uncertainly, sitting up and rolling his shoulders.

"It ain’t like they know you’re there." Eugene reasons. "C'mon, you ain’t sleepin' out here cause of this." 

Eugene jumps up to his feet and holds out his hand to help Snafu up, relieved when he accepts him and together, they amble back to Eugene's house. The lights are off save for the dim glare of a couple of bedroom lamps. Eugene stops Snafu just before they reach the front yard.

“Wait for a moment, I’ll use the front door in case anyone is up. Come to the window when you see my light .”

Snafu shrugs, pulls a pack of smokes from his pocket and plucks one out in a nonchalant manner.

“Don’t leave.” Eugene adds on, suddenly feeling like he needs to. “You’re stayin’ here tonight, that’s all there is to it.”

Snafu glares at him through the smoke of his cigarette but doesn’t refuse him. Eugene bristles and makes his way down to the house, looking back quickly he can just make out Snafu pacing in the distance.

There’s one small lamp left on, presumably left on for him for if he returns before dawn. There’s no one down here though, they all must have retreated to bed. He’s relieved for the most part, tomorrow is going to be difficult, at least at first and he’s glad to be spared it for tonight. He creeps up to his own bedroom, more to avoid waking people up than anything. The last thing he wants is someone coming to him to talk while he’s sneaking his secret lover in through the window. 

A small crackling noise sounds from the window coming away from the seal of the frame as Eugene carefully pushes it open, making him wince. Cool air rushes into the dense room pleasantly and Snafu stubs out his smoke to climbs inside the room. He’s got a brown paper bag stuffed under one arm.

"All asleep? Snafu mumbles while Eugene pulls the window close but not shutting it entirely.

"I guess, no one waited up. What’s in the bag?" Eugene asks.

“Rest’a the stuff I bought.” Snafu replies, placing the bag quietly at the foot of the bed. “Left it on the canopy so it didn’t look weird bringin’ new clothes to dinner.”

Eugene nods in understanding, pulling off his clothes and changing into pyjama trousers, leaving his top half bare. He switches the light back off and feels his way back to the bed while his eyes adjust to the dark again. He hears more than sees Snafu strip down to his underwear and then the bed dips and Snafu’s warmth is settling next to him, a familiarity he’s grown much too fond of these days.

Eugene faces Snafu, gently using one hand to push him onto his back, leaning over him enough to bring their lips together and kiss him deeply. He traces his fingers over Snafu’s bare chest, dragging over a nipple, just hard enough to make Snafu suck in a breath and let out a small amused huff. The muscles of his abdomen shift under his touch and he breaks the kiss with a breathless moan when Eugene slips the material of his underwear down to free him. Eugene smiles against his lips, ghosting his hand over his length until Snafu shudders for him. When he’s teased him enough he finally wraps his hand around him and strokes slowly, revelling in the way Snafu parts his lips around a silent moan.

“I wish you could understand your worth.” Eugene whispers, pulling back from the kiss so Snafu can only have his words and his hand to focus on. He anticipates the uncomfortable squirm he gets in return and squeezes him a little harder to make up for it.

"Not this again." Snafu protests but still bucks his hips despite himself. "Stop."

"Quiet, or I’ll stop _this_ instead." Eugene promises. Snafu scowls at him but settles down. "You really don’t see any value in yourself?"

Snafu laughs uneasily. "You're such an idiot." 

"Fine, you're a complete jackass." Eugene jokes but there’s not enough humour in it to keep it up and so he continues as before, not easing up on the slow stroking either. “I mean it. You think yourself less than my family, less than me even. Why?”

He doesn’t expect a response from Snafu and he doesn’t get one. His stroking becomes jerking for a few moments until Snafu’s eyes flutter shut and he starts to arch against his hand. When he speaks again, his voice is soft as ever.

“It can’t only be money.” He pushes. A small sigh escapes Snafu’s parted lips, whether from his words or actions, Eugene doesn’t know. Snafu tilts his head, pushing his jaw out and Eugene resists the temptation to lick a stripe along his beautifully bared neck. “Title? Status? As if any of these things are truly important.”

Snafu’s heavy lidded eyes roll in his direction and he speaks low and determined despite the hitch in his breaths. “What else is there without that?”

“You and I fought in a war, Snaf.” He repeats his earlier words but it feels foreign to speak of such times while touching Snafu like this, his hand gliding over the soft skin of his cock but he’s got him squirming under his control and at least he’s listening to his words now, unlike back near the creek. “An’ if that’s taught me anything, it’s that it don’t matter.”

“Oh yeah?” Snafu pants, bucking his hips up into Eugene’s fist. “What exactly?”

“None of it.” Eugene says, encouraged by Snafu’s questions. “It don’t matter who you are or what you have.” 

Snafu laughs breathily and shakes his head, averting his eyes as though Eugene is trying to sell him some ridiculous conspiracy and although Eugene will never admit it, it annoys him just a little.

“You think Jap bullets give a bit or two ‘bout how much coin you got in your pocket?” Eugene asks, more forcefully than he probably should but he makes up for it with a firm squeeze of his hand which makes Snafu arch perfectly for him. “It was as true then as it is now. Fortunes, titles, none of that means a thing when it comes down to it. You’re worth more than what you own.”

Snafu’s head snaps forward, his eyes unblinking on him. “Fuckin’ hell, Gene.” Snafu grunts, slightly out of breath. He tugs Eugene’s hand away from his cock. Eugene straightens up, confused eyes wide on him as he speaks. “We ain’t in the fuckin’ war now. Sweet sentiment, Cher but that ain’t the world we live in.”

Snafu shifts up onto an elbow and his face comes more into the dim light coming through the window. Eugene wasn’t trying to strike a nerve but it seems he has anyway.

“Money don’t matter?” Snafu repeats, eyebrows raised over an intense gaze. “S’real easy to say when y’ain’t ever had to go without it. Money’s everythin’ out here.” He lifts a hand and points at Eugene, it’s not threatening but Eugene can feel the weight behind it. “An’ you an’ I ain’t equal, to pretend like we are is just an insult.” 

Snafu doesn’t say anything further, only holds his gaze as Eugene gapes at him, mind ticking over in search of the right response. He finally comes to his sense enough to avert his eyes and rubs his hand along one of his forearms. It suddenly makes sense why Snafu seemed irritated with him whenever he tried to give him any money or buy him anything. Does he not understand that Eugene was never trying to make Snafu feel less than him by offering him those things? But then he’d never considered how that might feel for Snafu, having Eugene, while unintentionally, still treating him like he can’t look out for himself after everything he’s already been through, everything he’s survived. He grits his teeth and feels something akin to shame prickle at his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Aw hell, Snaf.” He mumbles and scratches at the back of his head while shifting his position a little, fidgeting. “That’s not what I...I only meant I wish you’d stop seein’ yourself as worthless, cause I certainly don’t.”

Eugene tenses for a hard response but when he looks up at Snafu’s face, he’s greeted by soft eyes, even if his mouth is still a bitter line. “I know.” Snafu says quietly. Eugene dares to risk leaning forward, positioning himself over Snafu enough to comfortably kiss him. He’s half expecting Snafu to push him away again but he feels him relax underneath him instead, hands drawing up his sides and pulling him closer. His touch is soft, forgiving, he’s not mad at him and when Eugene chances a look down, he notes that Snafu is hard. He’s not sure if his erection had waned or not a few moments ago but now it’s as if nothing had even happened.

His eyes flick up to meet Snafu’s in a silent request, not entirely sure he hasn’t ruined the mood too much to continue but then the line of Snafu’s mouth curves into a smile and he thrusts his hips up a little in an equally silent agreement. Eugene brings his hand back to Snafu’s cock and slowly continues from where he left off, gently working him until his breaths are coming out harder and his hips twitch with the urge to thrust into his grip. 

"You do care.” When Eugene starts speaking again, Snafu’s eyes are on him in an instant and Eugene can’t ignore the warning in them. He’s heading towards dangerous ground again and Snafu won’t be as patient this time around. “All that talk 'bout how you don't need nobody an' fuck what anybody thinks, but it's exactly that, just talk." Eugene gives a hard squeeze to the cock in his hand when he spots Snafu opening his mouth to retort, cutting him off with a gasp instead. When Snafu starts to shift again, Eugene places his free hand on his chest to press him back to the bed determinedly. "Don't fight me on this. I know I’m right here at least."

Snafu lets Eugene push him back but the eyes on him are a hard glare, paying no attention to the hand on his cock, even when Eugene increases the efforts of his stroking again but he refuses to give in. He pulls his hand away from Snafu’s cock to lick a long stripe from palm to fingertip and returns it, feeling his fresh strokes become slicker. Snafu’s eyes watch him work, trying to keep up his glare but Eugene sees some of the hardness leave them. Eugene continues.

“Y’know you talk a big game for someone who reacted so sensitively to a bunch o’ rich folk not takin’ a fancy to ya.” He snipes but his expression is teasing. 

Snafu huffs at that but forgets himself enough that he pushes his hips up into Eugene’s hand without thinking. His resolve is starting to crumble, Eugene thinks smugly, under his words, under his kneading hand.

“An’ you’ll never admit it.” He pushes, growing serious as Snafu starts to pant lightly for him, a delicate frown moulding it’s way into his brow while his eyelids droop and flutter in a battle between keeping his eyes on Eugene or giving in and let himself enjoy this. “Because no one can be allowed to know that the mean tongued, tough knuckled Snafu Shelton actually has feelin’s.”

Snafu actually moans and it’s as much of an admittance as Eugene is going to get. Still, it sounds sweet in his ears. He stops to lick his hand again, a bitter taste catching his tongue from the pads of his fingers and he renews his efforts on Snafu’s cock once again. Snafu closes his eyes with a sigh and then seems to remember himself and snaps them back open to fix on Eugene again. His glance is not one of defiance anymore though, in fact Eugene’s words seem to be urging him on in some way.

“You spend so long buildin’ them defences, Pushin’ everyone until they wash their hands o’ ya because that’s easier than to risk carin’ for anyone an’ havin’ to watch ‘em leave. Hidin’ behind cruel teasin’ an’ never lettin’ anyone know the real Snafu.” Eugene says, looking down at him, his voice going ever softer when he adds. “My Snafu.”

"Gene." Snafu gasps warningly, bucking his hips into the hand at work. His hands fly up to claw at Eugene's shoulders and pull him closer, still at enough distance that he can keep his eyes on him. "Eugene." He warns again desperately.

"S’alright." Eugene assures him, slowing his hand down but refusing to relent his grip. "Just enjoy it." He leans down and kisses Snafu briefly but deeply before gently replacing his mouth with his hand. "I gotcha covered but you gotta hang on just a few more seconds for me, I ain’t done."

Snafu lets out a soft snort against his palm. “Easier said than done,” he says, muffled but follows it up with the faintest whine when Eugene slows his hand further with an expectant look. He is going to finish his point before Snafu is done. Eugene leans closer and lowers his voice. He wants Snafu to feel his words against his skin, to take them in with his own laboured breaths because he’s pretty damn sure that, experienced or not, no one has laid him out and stripped him bare quite like this before.

“But that’s just it, Snaf,” he says, voice a little above a whisper now. He picks up the intensity of his stroking, feeling Snafu’s abdomen tensing and contracting underneath him. He’s almost finished. “You push. You push and tease and chew at everybody until they’re at their last damn nerve but that’s exactly what you been playin’ for.” Snafu’s eyes, impossibly, are still on him. He’s gotta be fighting against every last urge to avert them. Thick breaths are coming out of flared nostrils, his little hums and moans vibrating against Eugene’s palm and it’s clear he’s got him. “You were just waitin’ for the day when someone finally pushed back. An’ then that day came and what’d you do? You dropped to your knees and sucked his cock.”

Snafu swears underneath his hand at that, his eyes roll hard, unable to stop them from squeezing shut this time as his back arches and he goes completely rigid. Ropes of thick cum land across his chest, some coating Eugene’s fingers. With a satisfied lump in his chest, Eugene works Snafu gently through it until he falls limp and pliant against the bed, heaving and twitching, completely and utterly done for.

Within Eugene's sock drawer, there lays a small pile of brand new handkerchiefs, which Eugene had never had any intention of using. His mother made him keep them because they were beautifully embroidered and an antique, though he always found them a rather repugnant addition to any outfit and so they lived in his drawer. He never imagined for a moment that they would one day become of use to him, or that their usefulness would be for _this_ particular deed but as he reaches in to select one and uses it to dry his hand, he reminds himself to carry one of these around with him from now on, if only to justify the fact that they would be appearing in the dirty laundry from now on. 

Eugene climbs back on top of a very relaxed and blissed out Snafu. He leans over him and looks up and down his streaked chest with a self satisfied smile. Snafu meets his gaze and while he gives nothing away in his expression, Eugene is almost certain he spots the lightest blush make its way across his cheeks.

“I’d say we’re even.” Eugene hums and proceeds to wipe away the remnants of their endeavours from Snafu’s torso. When he’s done, he tosses the soiled rag under his bed for later concern and fidgets around until he’s able to lay next to Snafu and pull the covers over them. He pulls Snafu against him, who goes willingly, settling into his arms and resting the side of his face against Eugene’s chest. Eugene’s one hand comes up to slide his fingers into Snafu’s soft hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly as he presses his lips near his forehead. 

He can feel Snafu respond by placing little kisses of his own along the flat of his chest, his fingertips tracing along Eugene’s collarbone and up, pausing briefly at that scar again and then to the faint remains of the bite on his shoulder, stroking over it fondly. It’s such an intimate gesture, Eugene’s sure he feels his heart flutter right beneath where them lips are against him.

"I”m sorry.” The words are whispered so gently against his skin, Eugene isn’t entirely certain he really heard them for a moment. Of all the things he may ever come to expect from Snafu Shelton, an apology is not one of them. “Before, I was outta line.”

“It was risky.” Eugene admits, caressing Snafu and not removing his mouth from its place against his head. “Sid had no right to say what he did. I’m gonna speak to him tomorrow.”

“I doubt there’s anythin’ you can say that’ll change anythin’ from what he said.” Snafu warns, tilting his head up to look at him.

Eugene wants to ask Snafu why he turned up drunk but he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer to that. He also wants to ask about the rumours. What do people know? Or think they know? Is there any truth to them? If so, how much? And why didn’t Eugene catch wind of a single thing with all the time they spent around each other?

He doesn’t ask. Tonight has been a mixed bag of far too many emotions and that feels like a conversation for a later date. Besides, does it make a difference what Snafu has done before? It doesn’t change anything between them. He kisses Snafu’s lips softly instead.

"Maybe not." Eugene sighs when he pulls back. "But he's my oldest friend and he needs to accept that you and I are friends too, whether he likes it or not."

"Friends?" Snafu asks. His voice is sleepy but there’s an air of amusement in there too. 

"We’re friends." Eugene reasons.

"Don’t think friends do what we just did, Cher.”

"What, you wanna be my girl? Want me to take you out on dates and kiss you on the doorstep?" Eugene teases, smiling when he hears Snafu snort against his shoulder.

"Fuck you, Gene."

"Fuck you too, Snafu." 

Unlike when the same had been said earlier that evening, this time their words are filled with nothing but endearment.

.......

The following morning, it doesn't take Sid long to approach him about the previous night. Because that's just the kind of guy Sid is. The kind of guy who would try to make peace as soon as he can, especially when it’s with his best friend.

“Can we go somewhere?” Sid asks, catching Eugene as he leaves his bedroom to head downstairs. Eugene startles and quickly pulls his door shut behind him, heart missing a beat. Snafu is still laying in his bed right now, not something they usually do but it seemed too risky to have him try to sneak out with so many people here so Eugene asked Snafu to wait in his bedroom until Sid and Mary have left. Snafu had no qualms with not being kicked out of his bed at early dawn. Eugene also promised to try and sneak him up some breakfast if he got the chance.

“Uh, yeah.” Eugene replies stiffly and gestures for Sid to take the lead.

No one argues when Eugene informs his mother that they’re going to take a walk before breakfast. It’s rather clear they need to talk anyway. His mother tells them they will have some food kept warm for them when they get back.

It’s a bright and warm morning. Eugene can hear the birds twittering in the trees, can feel the light breeze on his face, can see the other people busying around to start their day but it feels like everything is clouded over with the weight of the impending discussion. Sid is the first to speak.

“Probably pretty obvious but I wanted to apologise for last night.” He says. “Wasn’t fair of me to ambush ya like that.”

“You’re concerned, I can appreciate that.” Eugene says with a firm nod. "But regardless of what you or anybody else thinks of him, he is my friend."

“An’ I ain’t questionin’ ya friendship.” Sid assures him. “Hell, I don’t gotta ask why about that, some of the friends I made over there...”

“He’s the reason I’m standin’ here talkin’ to ya right now.” Eugene agrees and he turns his head to see Sid nod. He understands that, of course he does. People didn’t survive over there without having somebody to keep them going, some small thing worth fighting for.

“But this ain’t like it was over there, Eugene.” Sid replies, stopping to face him earnestly. “The shit guys got up to over there might’ve been easy to ignore but here, if word falls to the wrong person-”

“An’ what reason is there that anyone else should hear about the things you said?” Eugene questions. “I sure as hell ain’t utterin’ a single thing about anything that went on over there. Will you? Do you even know if any of it is true?”

Sid averts his gaze and is quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Finally he looks to the ground. “No.” He sighs. “I don’t and I won’t say anythin’.”

"Thank you." Eugene says. He knows that if Sid is being completely honest, and he’s certain that he is, then he’s only doing it for Eugene. He can’t ask for more of him than that.

"Hey look." Sid seems like he’s fighting with himself for a moment before he continues. "Why, uh, why don't you invite him to the reception after the wedding?"

"No, Sid..." Eugene starts. He’s taken aback, that’s for sure. A gesture he never would have expected, even from someone like Sid and he’s touched but honestly, that just seems to be asking for trouble. Sid only cuts him off with a passive wave of his hand.

"Come on.” Sid continues. “Any friend of yours should be welcome to party with us. Perhaps a little solidarity on my side will warm things with your parents?"

Eugene isn't exactly sure how but the idea doesn't actually sound half bad. "It's your wedding, Sid. I couldn't possibly-"

"Just...just run it by him. If he's such a good friend to you then he deserves a second chance from me, from all of us." 

Eugene pauses for a moment, looking at Sid and then he sighs in defeat. "Alright, I’ll try him. Thanks, Sid. I mean it, that’s real good’a ya.” He offers his hand in some kind of gesture of finality, to consider the matter finished. Sid takes his hand but uses it to tug him into a firm hug.

"Anything for my best friend, huh?" Sid laughs, pulling away and butting him on the shoulder playfully. "Just keep him on a tight leash if he does come, yeah?"

Eugene smiles despite himself and hums in agreement. “This is an alcohol free affair, right?”

Sid screws his face up like the very idea of that is pure horror but laughs when Eugene pulls a face to show he’s joking and claps him on the back, leaving his hand where it makes contact and steering him around so they can head back to Eugene’s home. “Come on, ‘m starvin’ out here.”


	8. Chapter 8

"Ow! Mind where ya stickin’ that damn thing." Comes the snappy voice of an exasperated Snafu as the poor tailor tries her best to pin his uniform into place without jabbing him in the process. The task seems to be easier said than done since Snafu had become the equivalent of a fidgety child as soon as he'd stepped foot in the shop. 

With some hesitation and a little encouragement from Eugene’s side, Snafu had accepted Sid’s invitation to the wedding reception. Eugene had tried to get him to agree not to drink but there was no way in hell that was ever going to happen, though Snafu did agree not to drink until arriving at the venue at the very least. 

Sid had also informed them that all ex-soldiers would be in uniform. He’d looked nothing but sheepish when he told him, knowing that Eugene is dubious to wear it again but Eugene did his best to save face. After all, he can surely manage one evening.

Eugene watches on in amusement as Snafu shifts and turns his head, keeping his eyes pinned on the tailors hands, his twirling making it exceptionally difficult for her to work. Still, she does her best to remain polite while gently ushering him back into the needed position.

"Please, sir. You gotta keep still for me if you don't wanna become my new pin cushion." The tailor smiles. Eugene can see her frustration underneath and has to applause her patience.

"Snaf, come on, the poor lady is trying to work." Eugene tries in an attempt to help. "How's she supposed to do that with you dancing around over there?"

"I don't see you standing up here, being poked and pulled around." Snafu complains. And maybe he’s right but that’s because Eugene isn’t the one who’s grown skinny enough to require adjustments to his uniform. Snafu awkwardly turns his body as she moves around him again but every time he does, he pulls the material she’s trying to pin into place, forcing her to move around him more. Together they spin round like a dog trying to chase its tail and Eugene has to work hard to stifle his laughter, unsure who it would offend more out of the pair of them. “How much is this all gonna cost, anyhow?”

“You don’t gotta worry about the cost.” Eugene assures him before the tailor has to abandon her work to go and check. The faster this is done, the better, he thinks.

“Don’t think you’re payin’ for this.” Snafu cuts straight in with wide, warning eyes.

“I ain’t, it’s part of the wedding cost.” Eugene informs him passively. “All military uniforms that need adjusting are put on Sid’s bill.” Since it was Sid’s request that any ex soldiers wear their uniforms, he felt it only fair that he covered the costs. 

It only took about twice as long as it should have but they manage to get his uniform pinned into place and ready for Snafu to pick up before the wedding. 

Eugene for the most part, is generally distracted in the days leading up to the event itself. As Sid’s best man, of course he’s expected to make a speech. He knows these things are typically lighthearted but how is he supposed to make light of the past few years after what they have been through? Skipping it altogether would be impossible, this huge gaping chunk of their lives just weighing on their shoulders as he purposefully avoids it. No. That won’t work, he’s gotta think of something else.

...

When the day of the wedding arrives, everything is buzzing with life. A kind of nervous, yet excited energy with everyone rushing around, sorting out last minute details, all in a bit of a panic. People making sure they don’t forget any last minute detail, sorting out travel. Eugene feels a bit out of place and in the way, since everything he needed to sort out is already fully prepared. 

He had already arranged with Snafu, since he was invited to the reception but not the actual wedding, that anyone who’s just going to the reception would be arriving at the venue around three and the actual wedding goers would turn up around four. Snafu said he'd prefer to turn up a bit later to avoid any awkward conversation with strangers which Eugene more than understood. Truthfully, that meant that Snafu would have less chance to get steaming drunk before Eugene arrived to keep an eye on him. With or without alcoholic influence, Snafu could be a feisty little shit but add alcohol and it was almost a guarantee. Eugene hates policing him like this, as if it’s his place to try to control Snafu in any way but after the past couple of get togethers with his parents and others, it feels like a necessary evil. 

So after a morning of people flapping around, everyone is finally just about ready to start travelling to the church. Sid is like a ball of electricity with nowhere to send the energy flow and Eugene has to grab him by the shoulders and shake him to get him to stop and focus on one thing for just a moment. 

“Fuck, Eugene. Say somethin’ encouragin’” Sid begs, grabbing Eugene’s arms as if trying to use him as his anchor to mentally steady himself.

“Jesus, Sid. You’ve fought in a war with tougher nerves than this,” Eugene tells him, straightening up Sid’s collar and glancing down quickly to check over the rest of his attire. “Hold still.”

“Think I’d rather take on a Jap or two right now,” Sid replies almost breathlessly while Eugene neatens him up.

“It’s gonna be great,” Eugene assures him. “You look great, you got the best woman in the world’s gonna marry ya, now get yourself in the car an’ go make her ya wife ‘fore someone else takes ya place.”

Sid glares at him but there’s a twitch in his lip. He’s clearly too nervous to join in the playfulness though and he nods, more to himself than anything.

“Thanks, Gene,” Sid says earnestly and embraces him tightly. “Be you next, just you see.”

Eugene smiles but the expression on his face in no way relates to the thoughts that run through his mind at Sid’s words. It’s not as if he’s ever thought that this fairytale wedding would ever be something he could have with Snafu. He looks around at the fluster of people, so excited and happy for the soon to be newly weds. He looks at his mother in all of her excitement and knows she cannot wait for the day she will be preparing to travel to his very own wedding. 

It’s never quite hit him until now that this future is not on the cards for him, not while he and Snafu continue whatever they’ve been doing. He doesn’t dare to call it dating. To call it that is to entertain the idea that they could ever have something as simple and normal as that. He and Snafu are never going to be walking down any isle, beaming family members standing behind them as they join themselves before the eyes of God himself.

A gentle clap on his shoulder brings him back to himself just as his mind starts to wonder how long they will be able to keep this up and really, he’s glad of the distraction because his mind was certainly running away with him, away to places he’s not nearly ready to address just yet. H’s head snaps up to see his father looking at him with a thoughtful expression, as if trying to read his mind. Eugene grits his teeth with a curt nod, ignoring the concern in his father’s eyes and, shrugging his coat a little tighter onto his shoulders, he makes his way around to his allocated side of the car. His mother calls to him a little distance away and tells him to wait a moment before getting into the car.

Her face, the moment she first laid eyes on him in his dress blues, the only time he’s worn them since returning home, the way the colour drained from her cheeks, Eugene knew what was running through her mind. Now she keeps messing with his uniform, touching him, keeps holding his arm whenever he’s near as if scared to let him go again. He wants to remind her that the war is over but he knows she doesn’t need to hear that. It’s not about that and truthfully he can feel it to. Dragging the damn clothes over his limbs, it had almost felt like he was dressing himself to go back and scolding himself for the sudden fear in his gut did nothing to ease the sensation. And now he stands in it, the material weighing heavily on him, a constant presence that he can’t escape awareness of.

Eugene's father eventually just has to usher her into the car himself, as she tries to make her way over to Eugene once again in an attempt to mess with his blues. 

"His collar is fine dear, just get into the car."

...

The wedding itself is everything that could be expected from a couple Like Sidney Phillips and Mary Houston. Sheer visual perfection. The church ceiling, lined with white flowers and pale blue ribbons, sheets of white lace draped the walls, shrouding the room in a delicate shimmer.

Eugene stands in his place behind Sid, waiting for Mary to arrive. Every now and then he catches Sid's eye as he turns around to stare headily down the isle and gives him a little encouraging grin. He can almost feel Sid dithering where he stands, playing with his hands and shifting from foot to foot.

Fortunately for Sid, the wait is not a long one before the music changes to give everyone their cue to stand. And then the doors open and in a flash of bright white, the bride appears. Eugene is not _almost_ certain this time, he _definitely_ hears the gasp that comes from his best friend. Mary Houston's dress hangs softly down to the floor and trails along the floor behind her, how far, Eugene can’t see from this angle. Her veil shields her face but curls of dark hair are visible through the gaps.

Slowly, she approaches the stand and turns to face Sid, who lifts her veil with a tremble in his hand and a grin on his face that Eugene has never seen on him before, one of true and unspeakable love. Eugene feels a twinge in his gut and the face of a certain Cajun marine flashes across his mind. Butterfly's flutter through his core hard enough to leave him dizzy and he quickly shoves away the image, an indescribable sensation washing over him.

The ceremony is surprisingly quick, many sweet words, a few laughs, a few tears and finished with a kiss. Then everybody is outside and cheering, confetti decorating the air with flashes of colour. Finally, people begin to disperse in an attempt to organise themselves into the right position to head to the reception.

Snafu isn’t at the reception venue when Eugene arrives there, just as he expected. Snafu would have been way out of his comfort zone on his own here. Eugene pulls at the collar of his uniform uncomfortably. He can only hope that Snafu hasn't decided to calm any apprehensions he might have by sinking into a bottle before he's even got to the venue. He did promise after all.

His concerns are calmed when he finally spots that familiar face coming into the building, neck craning as he scours the room for something. Eugene has been standing chatting to a young woman by the name of Betsy, the daughter of friends of his parents and the guy she brought with her, Frank, who Eugene assumes is her date. He actually sees the moment that Snafu finally finds what he’s looking for because his eyes light up and a small smile, arrogant in a way that only Snafu can pull off, spreads across his face and he makes a line straight to his target.

"Evenin' Sledgehamma." Comes his deep familiar drawl. He pulls off his barracks cover to reveal slightly flattened curls but soon fluffs them back up roughly with his fingers.

"Still able to stand up straight I see, Shelton." Eugene mocks casually, enjoying the way that tiny little know-it-all smirk spreads into a shit eating grin.

"Not drank a thing, like I promised." Snafu assures him but then his eyes are darting around the room, tilting his head up to see over the other people. "That needs to change quickly, where's the bar?"

Eugene sighs but still shows him to the bar after quickly introducing him to Betsy and her guy and even joins him with a stiff drink. 

...

He's not sure exactly when or how things change but a few short hours and a steady flow of drinks later and Eugene is dizzily leaning against a wall, still trying to keep a close eye on a pretty inebriated Snafu. He’s pulled the first couple of buttons open on his blue jacket but it’s not enough, he feels so compressed in this damn thing and it’s making him sweat. Eugene moved onto water a couple of drinks ago, partly because he was too hot, the other part of him wanting to stay coherent just in case the need should arise. Sid approaches him just minutes after Snafu gets ushered towards the dance floor by some lady with a loud laugh and a rather scandalous dress. Eugene hasn’t seen much of Sid since the wedding itself, so many people wanting a piece of his attention. It seems he’s escaped but for how long?

“If it ain’t the family man.” Eugene smirks. He catches Sid glancing down at the ring on his finger, a faint smile of his own ghosting his lips.

“Hell, I’ve barely had a moment with Mary since we got here. Tell me, who’re weddings really for? ‘Cause it ain’t for the people gettin’ married.” 

Eugene laughs. “I’m not the guy to ask,” He says. “Bet you’re lookin’ forward to the honeymoon though.” 

“Boy, am I,” He huffs, flushing a little when Eugene raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Not just for that,” He sighs and swats him on the arm. "Looks like he's havin' fun." Sid draws the attention from his future prospects and over to where Snafu is dancing with that woman. Sid’s drunk too, Eugene can hear the slur in his words. He’s a lot more relaxed now, completely losing that trembling edge he had earlier.

Eugene hums, only scowling in the general direction of the pair, dancing a clumsy, drunk jitterbug. If Sid notices the glare, he doesn’t bring it up. He has something else on his mind again, it seems.

“D’you-d’you ever ask him about what I mentioned?” Sid asks cautiously, swinging his shoulders lightly as if it would change anything about the words coming from his mouth.

Eugene groans. “Sid, I thought we were past this.” Eugene turns his head to Sid, trying to remember that he is at the man’s wedding before he speaks. It annoys him more because no, he hasn’t asked, not properly, despite his burning curiosity whenever he remembers what Sid told him, there are some things he just doesn’t feel right to ask. “You told me you wouldn’t say anything.”

Sid’s eyes fall a little dark for a moment but it’s not malicious, it’s more warning again if anything. It still doesn’t do anything to ease Eugene. “An’ I won’t say anythin’ to anyone else,” He promises again. “But sooner or later word could fall on the wrong ears an’ I don’t want anyone makin’ any unsavoury connections to you if it does. He could cause trouble, he could put you in danger, Eugene.”

Eugene has no response to that. He knows Sid’s concern here is him but what he doesn’t realise is that, should Snafu find himself in any trouble for such reasons, Eugene would be connected to it for a _reason._ Sid doesn’t know about any of that and there’s no reason why he should ever have to, there’s no reason why anyone should even hear rumour of Snafu’s possible endeavours during the war because the only people around here who know anything are himself and Sid and if he makes good on his promise, no one should be any wiser to anything.

Sid might’ve said more if the sound of voices calling his name from across the room hadn’t pulled his attention away first. He glances back to Eugene with an apologetic look and claps him on the shoulder briefly.

"Don't let him get himself into trouble." Sid warns quickly, eyes flicking back to Snafu again before starting to head towards the group of people gesturing him over and this time, Eugene isn’t sure if he’s referring to this evening or what they were just talking about.

"I got him." Eugene promises, starting towards Snafu. Any excuse to pull him away from that lady, who was now pulling some rather inappropriate dance moves for a wedding and Snafu, being the drunken ass that he is, is going along with it, laughing and flirting.

“I’ll try an’ find ya before the display, they’re settin’ it up now." Sid calls back to him and his stomach gives a jolt of panic. 

“Display?” He calls quickly but Sid is already out of ear shot. There’s only one thing that can mean but he’s certain that no one had mentioned that there would be anything like this tonight. His mind immediately flits to one thing. Snafu. After what had happened when that car backfired, having something like that happen here, with all of these people around, it would destroy him.

Eugene hurriedly makes his way through the dancers, placing a hand on Snafu's arm and attempting to pull him away from the woman, who tries to hold on and keep him dancing with her. Snafu stops responding to her when he sees who’s trying to get his attention.

"Comin' to dance with me, Sledgehamma?" Snafu grins, pulling him closer. Eugene quickly steps back from him before anyone can notice, glaring at Snafu warningly.

"We gotta get outta here." He states and starts to pull Snafu away, eyes scanning around for the exit. “Now.”

"Why, what's wrong?" Snafu asks a little more seriously, following Eugene and shaking the lady from his arm as he does.

Once they manage to get outside, Snafu grabs Eugene's arm and pulls him around the corner, away from the other people. 

"What's the hurry, Sledgehamma?" Snafu presses Eugene against the building wall and leans into him, eyes twinkling under heavy eyelids and a lazy suggestive smile playing at his lips. His words come out heavily slurred. He leans in, aiming for Eugene’s lips just as the sound of footsteps rush towards them.

Eugene manages to push him away just as the young lady that Eugene had been talking to before, Betsy, comes hurrying around the corner, pulling that same guy along with her, laughing and making hushing noises. She spots Eugene and stutters for a moment, blushing hard before continuing past and off out of sight. Eugene shudders at the close call.

"Oh, they are so up to no good." Snafu smirks, seemingly not having noticed the danger they narrowly avoided and trying to lean back into Eugene. This time, Eugene moves away from the wall and starts back out to where everyone is mingling just outside the venue. Instead of going back inside however, he walks to the steps and heads down, pulling Snafu close behind him.

It’s not until they were some distance away, that Snafu attempts to stop him again.

"Gene, where're we goin'? What's the matter?"

"Fireworks, I dunno when but we gotta get outta here." Eugene tugs on Snafu's arm, rougher than he really means to but the panic is pooling in his stomach and his only focus is on getting Snafu the hell out of there. Snafu doesn't try to stop him again until they reach the familiar quietness of the fields.

"We will still be able to hear them I think," Eugene tells him between lightly panting breaths, finally slowing down. He pulls open the collar of his dress blues and tears the jacket off him, letting it drop to the floor heavily. He pulls open the first few buttons of his shirt along with his cuff links and loosens any other part of his uniform that he physically can, cold air gushing against his skin and almost taking his breath away with the sensation. "But it won't be as loud. We should be alright."

He’s not sure if Snafu is trying to act like he’s not worried or if he really is just too drunk to care but instead of cooperating with him, he pounces on Eugene, trying to wrestle him and make him fight back, making Eugene lurch forward to escape his grasp. They chase each other for a little while in a very uneven game of tag, laughing loudly as they do. It doesn't matter much here, being the only people around, they can make as much noise as they like really. Still, Eugene thinks, there’s no such thing as too careful.

"We should be quieter." Eugene heaves, slowing down, out of breath. Snafu continues to laugh and chase him.

"What for, Sledgehammer? ‘fraid someone's secretly watchin’?" Snafu says with no effort to lower his voice. He does stop running around though and instead comes up to hug Eugene from behind, pressing his mouth into his neck, he whispers to him, “Let’s give ‘Em somethin’ worth lookin’ at.”

Eugene ducks out of his grip with a distasteful noise but Snafu hangs onto his wrist and tries to tug him back.

"C'mon, Sledgehamma." Snafu says, softly now, flipping Eugene round to face him. "Dance with me."

"I'm not gonna dance with you." Eugene protests, feeling silly for his sudden bashfulness.

"Why not?" Snafu smirks, bringing a hand up to brush Eugene's cheek. It feels almost like instinct to move away from the touch, after an evening spent around so many people, having to remember to be so careful, it’s easy to forget they are alright out here.

"There's not even any music."

"Don't need music to dance, Gene." Snafu places an arm around his back and pulls their bodies flush together, forcing an exhale from Eugene. Their faces are suddenly so close and Eugene’s eyes fall straight to Snafu’s lips. It feels like ages since they last kissed and his body longs for it in a sensation that’s akin to thirst. Snafu notices his glance and bites his lip lightly, teasingly and takes Eugene's hand with his free one, slowly starting to rock them side to side, stepping lightly to rotate their movements. Eugene lets out a small huff, sounding more exasperated than he really is but he makes no move to stop Snafu’s actions.

They stay like this for a while, dancing under the stars which are so damn clear out here, with any other false light a decent distance away. Eugene feels like they’ve fallen into a trance where nothing exists but them and he has no idea how much time passes. It’s just them, looking into each other's eyes, or pressing their faces into each other's shoulders, swapping arms, stepping away to twirl and then laughing when they return back together. A light breeze dances along with them, playing with their hair.

Their peaceful moment ends suddenly when the first bang of the fireworks sound, even with the distance they have managed to put between them. Snafu visibly jumps and instinctively drops into a crouch with a gasp, much like last time, his chest rising and falling in quick successions. 

Slowly, Eugene crouches down with him. He can hear Snafu steadying his breath, already handling it much better than that first time. "M’alright," he informs Eugene before he can open his mouth to say anything.

"I know you are," Eugene responds securely. Truthfully, he had felt the jolt of anxiety shoot through his chest when the first bang had sounded but this doesn’t affect him as much in the same way that Snafu isn’t plagued by nightmares like he is. This time, when Eugene offers a hand for him to stand up, Snafu accepts it but instead of letting him help him up, Snafu tugs at Eugene’s arm sharply making him lose his balance and fall down onto his ass with an 'oof’. Snafu slumps next to him, shoulders pressing hard against each other. They watch the fireworks just above the trees from their place on the grass, Snafu smoking slowly, still shuddering a little at the louder, more booming ones. Eugene lets his head fall against Snafu’s shoulder and rubs his cheek against him affectionately. It seems to provide some comfort, or at the very least, Snafu doesn’t stop him from doing it.

That is until they’re plunged into silence once again when the fireworks stop almost as fast as they'd begun.

"Them fireworks ain’t lasted long." Snafu notes flatly, blowing out a lump of smoke with his words. There’s the lightest trace of a tremble in his voice but Eugene can’t decide if it’s the alcohol in his system.

"Y'reckon maybe Sid wasn't ready for them fireworks?" Eugene asks, his head not moving from its place on Snafu's shoulder.

"I reckon a lot of the guys there weren't ready for them fireworks." 

A ball of guilt sits heavily in Eugene’s gut. He should have tried to get to Sid first, to warn the others but his mind had given him one sole focus. Look after Snafu. He hopes that all of the soldiers down there are okay, and that whatever reason the fireworks have been cut off for, it isn’t something that has harmed anyone in any way, physically or mentally. He hopes that Sid is alright. The last thing he'd want is for Sid's happiest day to end in fear and panic, recounting memories from horrors he should never have had to see in the first place. 

It seems a thoughtless idea to have a firework display at the wedding of an ex-marine along with a whole bunch of his, also ex-marine comrades. That might not be entirely fair of him though because it occurs to Eugene that, had he and Snafu not had that car backfire on them, they probably wouldn't have thought anything of the fireworks until it was too late. And given how Snafu had responded back then, with only a few people around to witness, Eugene doesn’t dare to imagine how much worse it could have been if the same had happened in front of all of those people. 

And God, he’s Sid’s best man. He’s supposed to be back there right now. He wonders if they have reached that part yet and if anyone is looking around, wondering why he’s not there to give his speech to his best friend.

"Gene." 

Eugene blinks at the sound of Snafu’s voice. He said his name so quietly, a strange air of uncertainty that makes the hairs on the back of Eugene’s neck stand up and his ears prick curiously. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Eugene sits up and leans away to look at him better. Snafu doesn’t return the gaze, he doesn’t look at him at all, his eyes are turned down at where his fingers pick at strands of grass with little snapping noises as he tears them from the ground distractedly, fidgeting uncomfortably. "What for?"

"For gettin' me away from there." Snafu replies slowly and his gaze moves but he still won’t look at Eugene, instead staring out to where the fireworks had come from. "If I'd've still been down there, not knowin' they were gonna happen...I..." He trails off but Eugene doesn't need him to continue, it’s clear what he’s getting at. Eugene leans back in so their shoulders press together again.

"What're friends for?" Eugene says playfully, trying to encourage Snafu to relax a little. Really, he thinks, Snafu was never one to get particularly soft and emotional on him but a simple ‘thank you’ shouldn’t be so hard for him to voice.

"Friends?" Snafu repeats stiffly. "I think we are a long way from that one at this point, Sledgehamma." 

“Oh?” Eugene laughs, thinking back to when Snafu said something similar on the night of the fight. "You tellin’ me you’ve changed your mind and you _do_ wanna be my girl?"

"I love you."

Everything stops. Eugene could swear he even forgets to breathe for a moment. Because there’s no way in hell this man, this man who won’t even look at him, just said what he did. And suddenly it makes sense, Snafu’s antsy disposition, the fidgeting, the nerves. This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, something that had slipped out without meaning to. He’d _planned_ to say that. For how long?

He must have been silent for longer that he thought because then Snafu is shifting up onto his knees wobbly and muttering “s’gettin’ late,” in this small, insecure voice and Eugene realises that while he had been so distracted by the shock of what Snafu just said to him, he also missed his cue to respond. And now Snafu is getting up because he’s taken Eugene’s silence as a rejection because of course he would.

“No, wait.” Eugene says but Snafu doesn’t stop, he’s on his feet’s and turning to walk off, muttering unintelligibly. Eugene lurches up and manages to catch his wrist just before it’s too out of reach. "Sit back down, y'fuckin' drunken idiot." It’s a poor attempt at humour and Snafu doesn’t so much as smile but he does sit down. “How long ya been sittin’ on that one?”

Snafu doesn’t reply but Eugene doesn’t expect him to. He’s never seen the man look so caught and on edge. And really when he thinks about it, it’s quite funny, enough so that he does actually huff a small laugh, earning him a confused glare from Snafu.

“You were really so ready for rejection that a few seconds silence got you convinced?” He continues, humour still evident in his voice but Snafu doesn’t seem to get the joke. He’s not looking at him again and Eugene can’t stand it. “As if, even for just one damn moment, there was some chance that I don’t feel the same way?”

Finally Snafu’s eyes trail up to his face, focussing on his lips as though he needs to physically watch the words leave his mouth. 

"Snaf-” He stops because no, it’s not right. Not in this moment. “Merriell.” Snafu’s eyes jump up from staring at his lips, an emotion in them that Eugene can’t place but he takes a moment to burn that image into his memory because he will never let himself forget that _he_ caused Snafu to look at him like that. He repeats himself, lips curving into a smile as he does. “I love you, Merriell Shelton."

Snafu lurches forward so suddenly, it almost knocks the wind out of Eugene as he's pushed back onto the grass but then firm lips are working against his, insisting that he open to them. 

"Call me that again, Mon Cher," Snafu breathes into his mouth. 

"Merriell," Eugene says again, shuddering when Snafu moans and rolls his hips against him in response. He’s hard in an instant and soon humping up against Snafu to try and find some kind of relief but then Snafu’s hand is going at his own belt fastenings followed quickly by Eugene’s, pulling them both free and shucking down his own trousers to press the bare hot skin of their cocks together with a desperate sigh. He grinds him roughly for a moment, a perfectly guttural noise escaping his throat and then he starts up a more rhythmic pace.

Eugene slides his fingers into Snafu’s hair as they rut together and he tugs at it roughly, using his grip to drag Snafu’s mouth back to meet his own, opening wide for Snafu to explore him with his tongue. Snafu takes the hint in no time and he delves in possessively, demandingly and it’s all so much, so intense, Eugene can’t take it. The feel of their cocks, Snafu’s tongue in his mouth, the hands gripping and clawing at him, it’s overwhelming.

Their hips become clumsy, cocks slipping away from each other with the force of their thrusts and Eugene only has time to whine out once in frustration before Snafu is sliding a hand down between them to take both of their cocks into his grip and stroking them together. The sensation becomes more consistent, more precise and they both moan into the kiss as Snafu works them both firmly.

“Gene.” Snafu pants his name his voice laced with lust and something else. “I-I love you.” 

Eugene’s breath hitches at the words and one hand slides down to Snafu’s cheek, thumb stroking adoringly. “I love you too.”

Snafu moans and strokes them harder. He repeats it, keeps repeating it, like it’s become a mantra for him, the only solid thought to cling onto and Eugene understands that only too well. He tugs at Snafu again, pulling him even closer so his mouth can reach his ear. Eugene whispers it back, repeats it back every time Snafu tells him. He has to. He needs to.

He bucks up into Snafu’s grip as he begins to lose rhythm and slides one of his own hands down to join him, working them both in a joint effort as Snafu’s words dissolve into solid moans. Eugene only has just enough time to realise his uniform shirt is about to take quite a hit and quickly drag it up before Snafu’s hips stutter aimlessly and he spills with a long groan. His arm trembles dangerously and Eugene releases their cocks in an effort to help hold him up so he doesn’t slump in the fresh mess on Eugene’s stomach. He doesn’t have the patience to wait long though, he’s still yet to find his release and the moment Snafu leans down to steady himself onto his elbow, Eugene is returning his hand to himself to finish the job. It only takes moments and with one final whisper from a breathless Snafu, right into his ear, he stills with a broken sigh and releases, thick stripes joining the mess across his middle.

They stay like this while they come down, breaths gradually slowing back to normal, just looking at each other.

“Guess this makes me ya girl then, huh?” Eugene’s mouth breaks into a grin and they both start laughing. Snafu presses his nose into the side of Eugene’s face affectionately. 

“Sure does.” Eugene agrees, pulling Snafu into yet another kiss which ends all too soon when Snafu almost slips into their combined fluids.

"You might wanna..." Snafu doesn’t need to finish, he just gestures down with his eyes and Eugene grimaces now that his mind stops to focus on the sensation of the cooled fluid against his skin. Snafu clumsily climbs off him and gets to his feet so Eugene can move too. He makes a disgusted sound when he turns onto his side to allow the bulk of it to run off him and onto the grass before he stands up or it would have run straight down to his trousers and there is simply no decent explanation for a stain like that. 

“Creek?” Snafu suggests with a shrug. Eugene’s not sure if he’s genuinely trying to be helpful but he balks anyway.

“You gotta be kiddin’, you know how fuckin’ cold that will be?” Snafu doesn’t look nearly sympathetic enough to satisfy him but at the very least, he does help him to his feet.

The creek is only a few minutes away and most of what’s left on his stomach has dried enough to stop trying to run anymore. Snafu makes little effort to conceal his smirk when Eugene pulls off his shirt entirely, dropping his trousers and removing his shoes, bristling as he reaches the edge of the creek.

Just as he anticipated, the water is freezing cold and he gasps as he steps into the more shallow parts. He splashes the first handful over his stomach and scowls at Snafu who is finding this all far too amusing. He walks to the edge of the creek and crouches down to dip his hands into the water, whistling at the temperature and sending a joking grin to Eugene before washing his hands too.

“Good thing this part comes _after_ the fun, or there wouldn’t be much to work with,” Snafu says crudely, failing to dodge when Eugene swipes a hand through the water in his direction and spraying him.

After cleaning up and redressing, Eugene and Snafu head back to the fields to tuck down into their familiar dip. It’s either very late into the night, or very early in the morning but Eugene doesn’t feel like returning home yet. Out here is just for them, out here there’s possibilities, they can just be together and relax and not have to pretend to be anything else. Even in Eugene’s bedroom they can’t fully relax, always having to keep an ear out to catch the sounds of anyone approaching as well as being careful of their own volume. After the events of tonight, he’s not ready to let go of that yet, not ready for it to be over.

Snafu leans against him heavily, head tilted to rest on his shoulder and the looser curls of his hair tickle his neck. He smokes lazily, a light breeze carrying his exhales away across the field. 

“Party didn’t turn out so bad this time, huh?” Eugene speaks softly against Snafu’s hair while his fingers trace small circles on Snafu’s shoulder. 

Snafu hums in what sounds like agreement. “Even got some work outta it.”

“Oh?” 

“Rita.” Snafu goes on. “That broad I was dancin’ with? Parents havin’ trouble with their air conditionin’, asked if I knew how to fix it. Said I would.” He takes another long drag from his smoke.

There’s a spike of something unpleasant in his gut but Eugene pushes it down. “Looks like you were havin’ fun earlier,” He says. “Didn’t know you could dance like that.”

“Got more than just looks, y’know.” Snafu snorts, making Eugene rolls his eyes.

“You’ve been handlin’ quite a lotta sit conditionin’ stuff.” He notes. From what Eugene can tell, Snafu has always been good at dealing with more intricate things involving handy work, more than just opening cans, anyway.

“Lotta peoples systems breakin’ down with the heat,” Snafu shrugs.

“Reckon there’s somethin’ in that?” Snafu shrugs again.

“Guess I’ll keep an eye out and we’ll see.”

Eugene looks out towards the spot where the earlier fireworks had briefly lit up the skies. “Been thinkin’ of goin’ back to school.”

Snafu doesn’t speak but cocks his head to show he’s listening.

“Thinkin’ somethin’ in science,” he goes on. “Either to study plants or birds, not sure yet.”

“Should,” Snafu says distantly. “You’re so passionate ‘bout them, makes sense that you should build your life on that. Think that’s somethin’ you could go into?”

“Maybe.”

“Not to get all mushy on ya but it’s kinda good to think we might be able to stick around each other with whatever we do.” There’s that tremble of uncertainty in Snafu’s voice again, one he only seems to get when he’s allowing himself to be particularly vulnerable around Eugene.

Eugene’s chest swells and he holds him just that little bit tighter. “I think we can find a way, whatever we gotta do to make it work.”

Snafu stubs his smoke out into the dirt and settles more into Eugene. They both know they will have to handle this properly sooner or later. Hell, maybe Eugene will go to university and it will be easier for them then, away from his family, away from people they know. He doesn’t pretend there’s ever going to be a place where they’d be accepted as they are but perhaps they can come up with something, a story, nothing too detailed. After all, the easiest covers are the most simple ones right? 

And as of right now Snafu loves him. He loves him and Eugene loves him back. And right in this moment, that’s enough for Eugene to consume his mind and lull him into a calm, hopeful sleep.  



	9. Chapter 9

Snafu doesn't come back to his house the following morning. Eugene has no idea what time it is when they finally get up from their place, bedded down on the grass, parts of their clothing dampened with dew but the sun hangs high enough in the sky to know that his parents will certainly be up by now. Snafu tells Eugene he’s going to head down to that lady, Rita’s parents house o size up the work they need from him. As they reach the edge of the woods, he grabs Eugene’s arm and spins him around to pull him flush against his chest and takes his lips in a long, deep kiss that leaves Eugene half dizzy.

“God, I love you,” is the first breath that leaves him as they part and Eugene can’t help but stroke his face as he mirrors his words. Snafu holds him just that little bit tighter, letting his mouth fall to his shoulder, clutching at him like he’s unwilling to let him go. He said it the moment they woke up, gave him a groggy morning kiss and said it again. It’s like once he’d said it for the first time, he’d opened these iron gates to a need to tell Eugene he loves him at any moment of opportunity. Not that Eugene minds in the slightest, he returns every muttered word with as much eagerness and honesty.

Eventually they pry themselves apart and go their separate ways but even the moment that Snafu is out of Eugene’s eyesight, an overwhelming ache ruptures through his core, a hard urge to turn on the spot and head straight after him in a sudden need to be near him again. He’s felt it before but never as intensely as this. He huffs and scolds himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he strolls home. He needs to get himself together, they have just separated after spending the entire night together. Snafu will come to him again this evening, he can wait a damn day.

He was right when he assumed his parents would already be up as he gently pries open his front door with a click and slips inside to see his father jumping up from one of the living room chairs and his mother surging towards him before he can say a word.

“Eugene, thank heavens!” She takes him into her arms, her voice is shaken and weak. "We've been so worried."

"Why?" Eugene frowns.

"The fireworks.” Eugene’s father tells him stiffly.

Shit. With everything else that happened last night, Eugene had forgotten about the fireworks. He flexes his jaw uncomfortably.

"Yeah, We...I...” Eugene cuts off, wanting to explain how or why he’d known to get away from there. “Was everyone okay? Sid, is he..." 

“Sid and Mary decided it best to leave straight for their honeymoon.” His father sighs and gives a small shake of his head. "Seems no one expected the fireworks might have been arranged without proper consideration." He looks down as he talks and Eugene doesn’t need to know anymore to be able to guess what kind of scene played out once they’d begun. "A few people found them...uncomfortable."

His father is under exaggerating, Eugene is certain of that at least.

"'People' meaning the ex-marines," Eugene voices. It’s not a question and the look on his fathers face is unable to deny it.

"Once we realised what was happenin’, they stopped the fireworks but you were nowhere to be seen." His mother cuts back in, her voice a growing sharper at the end of that sentence, almost accusing. Eugene can’t help the guilt, knowing he should have stopped to tell somebody, even if he couldn’t stop them from happening in time, he should have said something to someone and not just taken off. “We've been up half the night searching for you and that friend of yours." 

"Oh, not this again, Mother." Eugene waves his hand in passive frustration. He wouldn’t have even said anything if it wasn’t for the tone that laced her voice at the word ‘friend’.

"Now, Eugene. We have tried to be patient. We have tried to give you space. I have done everything I can to help you but ever since that boy-”

"This ain’t about Snafu." Eugene snaps, storming past her towards the stair case. She focuses on Snafu every damn time, like in her mind, Eugene himself can’t make a choice of his own without Snafu isn’t the driving force behind it. He forces away a little voice in the back of his mind that questions how wrong that idea is.

She follows him, clearly not willing to let it go this time. "He's changed you." 

"He's helped me!" Eugene whirls around at the bottom of the stairs. He can see the tears welling in his mother’s eyes but he ignores them. He has to.

"I just want my son back." She yells but her croaking voice is more pleading than anything. 

“You can’t." He goes to make his way up the stairs again but she takes his arm to pull him back round to face her.

"Because that strange boy has taken you away!”

He gets in her face. He doesn’t want to but he’s so damn sick of this and she needs to understand she’s not the only one who feels like somethings missing anymore. "No Mother, because the sweet son you remember died the moment he started firing bullets into Japs!" 

"Now Gene." His father intervenes, as sharply as a man with a voice like his can manage. "Don’t talk to your mother like that."

Something snaps inside him. He’d gotten so mad at Snafu for mentioning the war around them. "My god, you have no idea what I’ve seen, what I’ve _done_ and now I just return home and find a job and be who I was before and pretend like none of the awful shit that they put us through ever fucking happened?" His mother is visibly crying now, he’s pretty sure his father is shaking but he can't tell because he is shaking. "Well I don’t know how to do that."

He gives up on trying to make it up the stairs so he throws the removed parts of his dress blues over the lower banister and surges back past both of his parents and out through the front door, hearing it slam loudly behind him, but not loud enough to cover the sob that comes from his mother as it does. He shudders at the sound but doesn’t let his feet stop.

Unable to wait a day after all, he storms towards where Snafu is working at Rita’s house. His fists grip so hard, he can feel the nails digging into his palms and his chest thunders.

He knows his father only knows part of the story, his mother knows even less. To them, this new side of him comes from his experiences over the past few years. He knows the war changed him. Hell, he’d have to be insane for it not to have, they were never going to get the same son back. Their son was a boy and now he’s a man and they need to find a way to accept that, especially his mother. 

But what they don’t know is that there is a second part to this story, a very big second part. And that lies within his feelings for Snafu, everything they have done, lasts nights events, the constant fear of the risks they take by pursuing this, the gnawing uncertainty of the future and how they will be able to find a way where this can work, the guilt he has for sneaking around and being dishonest without even telling outright lies. The whole sense of just how unfair it all is that things have to be this way because he lives in a world where love as a beautiful thing is conditional to the factors that the love meets. A world where the kind of love he and Snafu share is considered Sin.

But he knows his God. His God would never put this kind of love in somebody’s heart and then punish them for it. His God knows no hate. This kind of judgement comes from the same place where wars start and innocent men die, it’s man made, its human. Eugene follows under the eyes of his God and he knows that the day when death does finally come to take him away from this life, whatever sins he has to atone for, his love for Snafu will not be one of them.

He pushes through the small gate at the end of the yard and approaches the house. The knock on the door seems to echo loudly and a strange sensation waves through him, he almost hopes no one will answer but then he hears a click and he’s met with the inquisitive eyes of the same lady from Sid’s wedding. Rita.

“Can I help you?” She asks politely.

“I’m, uh, lookin’ for Snafu.” Eugene states dumbly and realises at her frown. “Uh, Shelton. Merriell? He’s here?”

He can tell by the expression on her face, she’s suddenly unsure of him. “You were at Sidney’s weddin’.”

He nods. She’s looking him over like she’s placing his face at the reception and he suddenly realises that he’s still half clothed in his dress blues and self consciously starts running his fingers through his hair.

“Wait here.” She tells him and closes the door. He hears sharp footsteps grow faint and he half wishes he’d just gone for a walk or something. He doesn’t have the slightest clue what to say to Snafu anyway plus a fight with his parents isn’t exactly the kind of thing to blurt out on some unfamiliar persons doorstep. It isn’t long before the footsteps return, this time along with duller, much more thudding steps. The door opens again to reveal Rita again with Snafu following close behind her.

Any concern Eugene had about what to tell him is soon forgotten about because Snafu takes one look at his face and then he’s turning to Rita to tell her he will come back later. She plays her face for a moment, he had agreed to come and look at the job after all, a protest twitching at the corners of her mouth but Snafu’s face only indicates that it’s not up for discussion and she holds her tongue.

Within minutes the two are walking along the street and heading in the direction of the fields, once again. They always go there now. It’s their place, their own special place where they can be completely themselves around each other.

"What happened?"

Snafu doesn’t wait for the fields before he asks. He looks him in the eyes with that way of his that always makes Eugene wonder if he’s looking at him or into him. Eugene sighs and kicks at a pebble irritatedly.

"Months in training, being prepped for war. Where’s the fuckin’ boot camp for goin’ home?" Eugene says. Snafu watches him, warily. "Why didn't they teach us how to go back? Did they even think we’d make it home?"

Snafu doesn't speak for a while, his eyes trail sideways over Eugene, reading him slowly. "Like I said, we done what they wanted, no use for us now."

"Think of the number of men who've returned home," Eugene says. "All those men goin' through the same exact thing that we are."

"Collateral damage." Snafu looks down, playing with his hands. Eugene is not sure how much Snafu believes what he’s saying. He looks almost guilty for saying it at all.

"For what fuckin' cause?" Eugene snaps anyway. That makes Snafu look at him again. Eugene huffs and looks away, shaking his head. "What if we hadn't gone to war? Not a single person. What would our lives be right now?"

Snafu is quiet for a while which is unusual for him. Back over there he’d jump at the chance to pitch in a bit or two but today he doesn’t seem so eager. When he eventually speaks, it’s in a small voice. “We wouldn’a met.”

It’s a heavy enough statement to sink it’s teeth into Eugene’s chest and stop him in his tracks in favour of staring at the source of it. Snafu pauses a few feet ahead of him and looks back and there’s that guilt in his eyes again. He glances down, away from Eugene’s gaze before he speaks. “Ain’t sayin’ I’m glad it happened, just glad our two paths crossed is all. If there’s even a fuckin’ difference.”

Snafu almost looks like he wishes he could take the words back. Eugene doesn’t say anything but catches back up to him and Snafu shifts into gear to carry on walking. Eugene has a sudden urge to touch Snafu, to add a physical certainty to the spoken one but they can’t here. He almost contemplates it, to brush a couple of fingers against Snafu’s forearm, nudge him in the shoulder with his own, place his palm against Snafu’s lower back just for a half a second would be enough but out here, it’s become so natural to them now but everything is too much of a risk, no matter how casual is could seem, it would only take one ounce of suspicion and they could undo this whole thing in a heartbeat. 

The very moment they’re shrouded from view enough by the trees, Eugene takes Snafu’s wrist and pulls him round in a move that mirrors exact what Snafu had done to him that same morning.

“There is a difference,” He says wilfully. Snafu doesn’t smile but unless Eugene imagined it, there’s the tiniest flicker at the corners of his mouth, maybe one more of reassurance than humour.

“Maybe there is,” Snafu sighs almost sadly. “But I’d go through the whole damn thing again if meetin’ you was the one constant.” Eugene kisses him, not so much a sign of affection as a means of shutting him up. He can’t hear Snafu talk like that because maybe it has crossed his mind before, maybe the same damn thought occurred to him that perhaps the only possibility of ever meeting Snafu was conditional on the war taking place. And hell, he could never be glad it happened but at the same time, no matter how much guilt eats away at him for selfishly daring to think it, he wouldn’t take it back at the cost of losing Snafu. He wouldn’t.

Eugene does come to give Snafu a vague account of the fight between him and his parents, not wanting to bring his mothers words regarding him into it. It would do Snafu no good to think she’s still not happy that he’s around Eugene, even if he already knows it.

“Go easy on ‘em?” Eugene asks incredulously at Snafu’s first response. Snafu laughs while lighting up a smoke from his pocket. He looks at Eugene and sighs.

“Day I get home, my ol’ man asks how soon I gotta go back.” Snafu explains distantly, pausing to drag and when he speaks, the smoke trickles out round each word. “When I say I don’t, the look on his face, like he wishes I’d just fuckin’ died over there. I stay a couple nights then get the hell outta there.”

Eugene looks down thoughtfully. Snafu doesn’t mention his home life much and when he does, he always seems to do his best to skirt around specifics. He knows Snafu’s papa is an asshole and that his mama isn’t in the picture anymore. Snafu never confirmed it but Eugene’s pretty sure she’s not alive.

Snafu shakes his head. “There’s worse things they can do, Cher.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Eugene defends lightly but he can hear the defeat in his own voice.

“I know,” Snafu agrees. “But until you figure this out with them, all that other stuff that’s been buildin’ to now is gonna stay in the picture.”

He knows Snafu is right but only about what he thinks this thing is about. Eugene’s refusal to mention the Snafu shaped rift between him and his parents only leaves him in the dark to part of the problem. Eugene doesn’t believe there’s any suspicion on his parents behalf, they know he spends a lot of time with Snafu but he’s sure they don’t know just how much that really is. His mother has laid the blame of Eugene’s inability to return to normal on Snafu and he’s not sure how or if he can move that blame away.

They sit for a little while and talk lightly, leaning against each other but just as Eugene starts to settle and relax with him around, Snafu has to return back to the job. Eugene wants to beg him to stay, tell him he will give him the money he misses out on this job if he will just spend the day sitting next to him but he knows it’s not fair. And so he gives Snafu one last lengthy kiss, brushes his thumb sweetly over his ear and watches him go until the trees block him from sight.

Unable to bring himself to go home yet, he decides to go wandering, making his way to the place with all the wildflowers. He lets his hands brush over them while he walks, thinking back to the day when he and Snafu spent hours around here, Eugene studying flowers and bringing them back to put in his hair, and Snafu pretending to be annoyed by it. He smiles at the memory and then his mind shifts to last night, when Snafu, inebriated as he was, told Eugene that he loved him.

How much has changed between the two memory's, how much it feels like they have changed in the short time. When he first laid eyes on the curly haired Cajun with a tongue, sharp as a whip and a glare to match, what an asshole Eugene had thought he was, the kind of guy who'd wind him up just cause there's nothing better to do. And that's exactly who Snafu is, even now. But he’s also kind and protective and affectionate in ways that very few people get to see. He’s a subtle soul and people have to read to see the deeper parts of him but that’s a thing that not many people are patient enough or willing to do.

And it’s not just the way he views Snafu that changed anyway. He knows he’s changed a lot, himself. The war changed him first, in ways he still isn’t sure he will entirely overcome. But Snafu turned up at his house and he’s changed him again. They’ve changed each other, helped each other. Hell, Eugene can’t remember the last time he woke up screaming or crying. On the nights when the horrors do revisit him, he wakes up to warm embraces, to firm fingertips rubbing circles into his skin, to soft lips against his forehead, to whispered promises of safety and comfort.

There’s a lot of things that are uncertain to him now, the future is so impossible to predict in his current state and it’s almost unbearable not to have just one thing he can see coming for certain. And he’s not sure if it’s that thought or if he’s finally just realised that there’s something he’s known he’s wanted for some time now but still hasn’t made a step towards. Whatever the reason though, he’s quickly changing his course of direction and walking up into the town, a new determination in his step. Fine, he thinks. Fine.

He walks straight through the town and up to the university admissions office, he fills out every bit of paper they slide to him and when he walks out, it’s like he’s been living in a thick smog that has just this moment cleared and it’s great. He’s finally just done it, he’s signed up for classes. And maybe this won’t fix everything and maybe that isn’t quite what his mother is hoping for, hell, he doesn’t know anymore but it feels right.

When he does decide to return home, it’s late in the afternoon and the house is quiet. His parents are out in the garden and Eugene goes straight to his bedroom. He doesn’t know exactly how long it is but the next time he comes out, it’s to the sound of the servants laying out plates for dinner and the sun is hanging lower in the sky.

Dinner is consumed almost entirely in silence. While his father tries to make some level of small talk with him, his mother barely even looks at him. He’d contemplated telling them about his university application but her coldness only irks him into keeping his mouth shut.

Snafu returns a short while after Eugene has gotten into bed.

“Didn’t wanna come too soon an’ walk in on a family therapy session.” Snafu says, stripping down and climbing into the bed to press himself up against Eugene’s back. He kisses Eugene’s shoulder gently and he can smell alcohol on him. Still, his talk is straight enough that he can’t be too drunk and Eugene assumes he spent a couple hours playing cards in the town while waiting to return here.

“I signed up for classes today.” Eugene informs him sleepily. He feels Snafu’s lips pause on his shoulder and his hold tighten just a fraction. 

“Told ya parents?” Snafu asks. Eugene shakes his head.

“Ain’t said a whole lot to them since I got home.” Snafu doesn’t respond, just tucks his face down into Eugene’s neck and settles to sleep.

...

Eugene spends as much time out of the house as he can.

He walks, he helps Snafu with his work or just spends his time with him in general. Snafu really is the only constant in his life now. That and things are still iffy with his parents. Eugene's father wants so much to keep the peace and is making at least minimal effort to keep things light but his mother barely speaks to Eugene, barely even looks at him. And well fine, Eugene thinks. He’s always been just as stubborn as she is and if she wants to play it like that, then Eugene can match her perfectly.

Rita’s house doesn’t need a huge amount of work, once Snafu had fixed up their air conditioning, her parents had decided to ask if he’d take a look at their rather beat up old basement. The walls down there are cracked as hell with a few gaps where bricks have crumbled and fallen through, allowing a sharp draft, which while fine in the day, does nothing but make the entire building cold at night. So Eugene and Snafu start fixing it up. It’s a simple enough job and the money is good. Eugene is glad just to have any reason to keep him away from his own home right now though he would much prefer a few less visits from Rita herself.

It's not that she isn't nice, by all means she’s very welcoming and very friendly. The problem is that the friendliness seems to double when it comes to Snafu. And boy, it doesn't take a genius to work out that she most certainly has a thing for the Cajun. Whenever Snafu speaks, Rita’s all wide smiles and sparkling eyes. She’s very playful with him, verbally and sometimes even physically, finding excuses to touch him, stroke his arm, tease his side, becoming decreasingly subtle with each passing day. She is very good at this game, Eugene thinks.

And Eugene does his upmost not to glare when this happens but Rita, lovely as she is, is a predator, hunting someone else's prey, and Snafu, being the clueless bastard that he is, does absolutely nothing to hinder this. Sometimes he wants to say something, sometimes he almost does but he knows Snafu would be far too excited to have him getting pissy over it. Most of the time Snafu’s just as playful back to Rita but there are moments when that playfulness enters flirting territory. And Eugene knows he shouldn’t feel like this, he knows Snafu, knows how he is. He trusts him. But Rita doesn’t know he’s spoken for because when she, not so subtly, asked if he has a lady, Snafu could only shake his head. And it’s not like Eugene expected him to do anything else. He couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t even allude to it, subtly suggest that there is someone because putting any eyes on the lookout for Snafu’s special someone only makes things unnecessarily dangerous for them both.

Once Rita learns of his apparent availability, all of this only gets worse as she doubles her efforts with Snafu and Eugene spends most days leaving her house secretly seething.

"So when do you start studying?" Snafu asks on another bright day by the creek. It had become something of a ritual to eat their lunch there. It’s easy enough for Eugene to get the servants to pack him up some food so he can avoid at least one meal with his parents. 

Eugene glances to where Snafu is sitting back on the grass, watching him lazily, his food was gone within minutes of Eugene handing it to him. Eugene’s own food sits untouched in his hand and he gives up on eating and shoves it back into the brown bag. "End of the summer."

Snafu considers him quietly. "You'll be swimin’ so deep in your books," He says. “Y’ain’t gonna have much time for this kinda work.”

"Hadn't really thought about it." When Snafu doesn't respond, it’s enough to distract him from the darker mood thinking about Rita had put him in. "Y’know, you been awfully quiet on the subject every time it’s come up, is that it?” Eugene asks, a small, self satisfied smirk slowly teasing across his face. “Don't tell me you'd miss me."

Snafu snorts. "Like I'd miss a bullet in the ass." 

Eugene rolls up the paper bag and looks around for a good place to dismiss it for now. He catches Snafu eyeing the bag. When their eyes meet, Snafu looks away but Eugene leans forward to sling the bag into Snafu’s lap. Snafu smiles almost sheepishly and gets to work on the second helping and Eugene is just damn glad to see him eating more.

"Well, if you get lonely, I doubt you'd have to look far to find some willing company." A confused expression flashes across Snafu's face as he bites into the food and his eyes watch him thoughtfully. Then Eugene sees the moment the penny drops and he rolls his eyes.

"Rita? Oh please, that soft haired kitty cat couldn't handle what I got to give." Snafu smirks cockily and Eugene just sakes his head.

"Well, its there if you want it, believe me." Eugene tries to mask the hint of bitterness in his tone and returns his lap but Snafu does not stop looking at him. Now it’s his turn for a small, infuriating smirk to make its way onto his face.

"Now am I loosin' my mind, or is someone feelin’ a little jealous?" Snafu teases, dropping the last of the food back into the bag and leaving it forgotten on the grass, something much more interesting on his mind now apparently.

"Don't be funny, that mind of yours was lost a while ago." Eugene refuses to look at him, though the lightest flush approaches his cheeks. He scolds himself for commenting at all, of course Snafu would pick up on something like this. Asshole.

"You're so cute." Snafu shifts closer to him, a mischievous glow in his eyes. He pushes into Eugene’s space, eyelids heavy but playful. "You won't mind if I get talkin' to her then?"

"You can do whatever the hell you want." Eugene answers more sharply than necessary but it doesn’t seem to deter Snafu at all.

"So I can have a little fun then? Give her a some of the old Snafu charm?" Eugene snorts as Snafu presses forward more, so he’s forcing Eugene to lean back to accommodate him. Eugene just glares at him, knowing Snafu is only trying for a wind up.

"Fuck you, Snaf." Eugene tries but every response just seems to amuse Snafu more.

"Think she'd let me do anythin' I wanted?" Snafu continues teasing, pushing forward more, using one hand to guide Eugene until he’s laying on the grass. He climbs over and straddles Eugene's waist, taking his hands and pinning them either side of his head. Eugene struggles against him defiantly but it’s all part of Snafu’s game. "I could lay the broad out, all open and needy for me. She'd take everything I give to her and be glad of it."

"Alright, lay off Snafu." Eugene struggles again, a little more than just playfully but Snafu holds him firmly in place, his grin widening.

“Reckon she’d drop to her knees and blow me with that pretty mouth?” Snafu plays harder, dragging out some of the words all playfully sultry and sending a pang through Eugene that it really shouldn’t. “Hey, someone gotta do it.”

Snafu laughs but he’s already over the line and whether he’s realised that yet or not, Eugene breaks out of his grip and has Snafu flipped onto his back before he can say another word. “S’that so?” He leans heavily over Snafu, face anything but playful and it’s enough to cause Snafu’s face to sober up quickly. 

With an expressions that can only be described as one of pure defiance, Eugene shoves himself back to sit on Snafu’s thighs and starts pulling open his dungarees roughly. His eyes pin Snafu as if daring him to make another smart ass comment. As he gets them open, he shoves his hand under to start tugging on his underwear and Snafu shifts a little uncomfortably.

“Gene I was only playin’,” Snafu starts carefully and sits up to halt his hands but Eugene only brings one up to shove Snafu hard in the chest and send him back, flat against the grass with a thud that makes Snafu shut up immediately but an impressed huff escaped his throat and his mouth curves into something of a grin. He must have caught on that Eugene isn’t really pissed and he soon goes back to his teasing.

"In broad daylight, Gene?" Snafu says. "Now that’s somethin’ to write home about.”

"Shut up, you're loving this." Eugene bites as his hand finally finds its way into Snafu’s underwear and pulls his length free. Snafu releases a sharp breath and arches into his hands as Eugene starts slowly and gently builds up to a pace that finally silences that smart ass mouth. Eugene loves to watch Snafu’s face when he does this. Sometimes his eyebrows will tuck into a sharp little frown while his mouth parts around a moan he doesn’t let escape. Other times he will fight to keep his eyes open and Eugene always shudders as they roam so intensely over him but then he will twist his hand just right at the head of his cock or tighten his grip or pick up speed and Snafu will lose the battle, squeezing his eyes shut with a hiss. Eugene thrives off all of it.

"Stop, stop." Snafu reaches down to take his wrist and pull his hand off him.

"Already, Snaf?" Eugene smirks. "Feelin' a little pent up today?"

"I don't think you understand just what you do to me." Snafu breathes a little laboured.

“Might wanna brace yourself, then.” Eugene warns him, loving the way Snafu tenses and his eyes widen just that tiny bit when he leans down. "Hold still and try not to thrust."

“No promises, Ch-” The rest of Snafu’s words rush out as a sharp exhale instead when Eugene slides his mouth around the head of his cock. Eugene swirls his tongue to lay out as much wetness as he can, there’s a sharp bitter taste that he gets when he licks his hand while jerking Snafu sometimes. He pulls back, licks his lips and presses back down, opening his mouth wide to accommodate him and he goes down and down until the head of Snafu’s cock slides against the back of his tongue and he gags before he has chance to pull back. 

Snafu laughs lightly but then his hand is sliding along the side of his face in an instant, cupping his cheek and tilting it to look at him. “Go easy, Mon Cher. Y’ain’t got nothin’ to prove.”

“Except I’m not the first guy you’re gettin’ this from.” Eugene counters dryly. Snafu’s is the first and only mouth he’s ever had round his cock and amazing as he is at it, Eugene can’t help but feel like that gives him some invisible bar he’s gotta try and reach, a bar he doesn’t even know the height of.

“An’ what?” Snafu reasons as though reading his thoughts. “Y’ain’t gotta be pullin’ no moves to compete with nobody.”

Eugene looks at him sheepishly and blinks back the wetness beginning to build in his eyes from gagging. He breathes evenly through his nose and trails his eyes back down to his task while Snafu’s thumb strokes delicately across his one cheek.

"Here,” Snafu says, guiding his head down towards his cock again. “Take it slow.”

Snafu doesn’t remove his hand when Eugene takes him into his mouth again. He feels Snafu’s thighs tense but his hips stay put and it makes him wonder how much Snafu is wishing he could move them right now. After all, Snafu has always allowed Eugene to all but use his face to get off when he does this for him. Eugene isn’t naive enough to believe that he will be able to do anything like that for Snafu any time soon though. He wonders about the other guys, despite himself. He wonders if they were any good at doing this for him, if they took him deep, let him play rough, eagerly swallowed down everything he dumped into their mouths. Did Snafu do the same for them? Did he work them as good as he does him? Eugene might not have other comparisons but Snafu is damn good with his mouth, perhaps too good and he certainly never struggled like he is now, not even close.

"Damn, you look so good like this." Snafu snaps him out of his thoughts again and Eugene instantly flushes with the guilt of letting his thoughts go there while he’s trying to do this for him. He doubles his efforts and works his mouth around the head of Snafu’s cock until the moans reach his ears again. He feels a touch at the hand he has resting on Snafu’s hip and shifts his eyes to see Snafu’s free hand pulling at him until he lifts it to let him guide it where he wants it. Snafu pulls the hand to the base of his cock. “This too, Cher,” he whispers. “Please.”

Eugene shudders and hums in agreement, wrapping his hand around the base and starting up short strokes while his mouth continues to play at the head. Snafu twitches beneath him.

"Feels so good, Gene," Snafu encourages. "All soft an' warm. I'm gettin' close like this." 

Eugene sucks harder and it’s enough to make Snafu buck his hips lightly, making him hum in surprise but he does no damage. He feels Snafu settle down but Eugene grabs his hips and tries to encourage him to move, flicks his eyes up to fix him with a look that tries to convince him he can take it.

“Don’t tempt me,” Snafu huffs with a small smile. He sits up onto an elbow and Eugene can sense his eyes on him while he works. His hand still rests on his face, as though he’s left it there to help Eugene ground himself. Whether that’s the intention or not, it works and Eugene leans into it just before sinking a little deeper. Snafu sighs but the hand of Eugene’s face starts trying to lift him away. "Use ya hand, Gene. I'm almost done."

The warning only makes Eugene more determined to finish this properly and he presses down further in defiance but it’s not long before he has to pull back to focus on just the head. He works his hand faster to make up for it, squeezes him at the base and feels his balls drawing up ready to shoot.

“Gene,” Snafu warns again, a little more urgently this time. “This ain’t...you don’t gotta...”

Snafu’s words dissolve into an incoherent mess and a couple of seconds later, Eugene feels the first lump hit the roof of his mouth and then a second, third, fourth pulse is flooding around his tongue. It’s warm and thick and the bitterness is so much stronger than the brief tastes from his fingertips. Snafu releases his face and drops back against the grass while Eugene slowly pulls off his softening cock and shifts to the side, leaning over the grass to empty the contents of his mouth onto it. When he looks up, Snafu’s eyes are on him. “One day,” he offers sheepishly.

"This grass is takin' a lot'a crap off'a us," Snafu comments breathlessly, making Eugene scoff in distaste but then Snafu is tugging him down over him so their mouths can meet. Eugene struggles a little at first. Yeah, he’s kissed Snafu after he’s used his mouth on him before but never so immediately after, he can still taste him so heavily on his tongue but Snafu seems to be all about that, opening his mouth wide, teasing him with his own tongue, trying to get Eugene to slide forwards into his mouth and so he gives in to the filthy kiss and Snafu moans for him.

Eventually, Snafu rolls them over, pulls Eugene’s shirt undone and moves lower, open mouth sucking at Eugene's exposed skin, tongue dragging, fingers splayed out, following the ridges of his rib cage, breathing deeply, touching, smelling, tasting him.

He wastes no time once he reaches Eugene's trousers, quick fingers attacking the fastenings. Eugene breathes harder as he trails closer to what he wants, hands fisting lumps of grass by his side, mouth hanging slack. He never intended to have Snafu return the favour, that wasn’t the point but now that he’s here, Eugene can’t quite bring himself to tell him this.

"You want this so bad." He hears Snafu say in a tone that is far too smug but not mocking. He’s loving this every bit as much as Eugene does. "Look at you, all tense an' needy. Think you might start begging' if I wait long enough."

"Snaf..." is all that Eugene gives in reply and as weak as it sounds in his own ears, there was meant to be a warning in there somewhere.

"Alright, Cher,” Snafu promises, hitching Eugene's trousers down over his hips and to his knees. "Leave it to me, I gotcha."

The first flick of Snafu's tongue against the head of his cock has Eugene breathing in deep. When he gently takes him into his mouth, he releases that same breath in a long, shaky exhale. It takes Snafu no time at all until his nose is just meeting the area around the base of Eugene’s cock and he really is far too good at it but Eugene’s got his head thrown back, unable to linger on thoughts like that while Snafu is working him this damn good.

It goes almost embarrassingly quickly considering Eugene dared to mock Snafu about the same thing before but he’s moaning and bucking his hips as he inches closer and closer to the end. Just a little more...

Cool air floods around his cock as Snafu suddenly pulls away and moves lower, kissing and biting at his thigh, eyes glistening with mischief as he glances up at Eugene.

"Asshole." Snafu's grin only widens at the insult. Only once Eugene’s breathing has calmed down does Snafu return to the task, sucking at the head of his cock, sinking him deep into his mouth and pulling back off to tease the head again. He does this for a while until Eugene’s patience has been tested enough and his hand fists into his hair to limit his movements more. 

Snafu doesn’t seem to mind the control being taken off him just that little bit, once again, he only seems to revel in Eugene’s manhandling, tugging on his hair, pressing him down onto his cock, Eugene can hear it in the change of his breaths. Snafu loves this.

“How many others?”

Eugene doesn’t mean to say it, it slips out of his mouth where a moan should have been and now Snafu’s eyes are piercing into his, a small frown that Eugene can’t decipher just yet. His mouth still stretches around his cock.

He decides that Snafu’s frown is inquisitive. “How many other men you done this for?”

Snafu rolls his eyes and goes back to sucking him as though dismissing him and he can almost hear what Snafu’s words would be if his mouth wasn’t filled by him right now. ‘Just shut up an’ enjoy it, Gene’ but Eugene curls his fingers into Snafu’s hair tenderly, massaging his scalp with his fingertips.

“I ain’t dumb enough to believe you got this good by sheer luck,” Eugene says, though his words struggle to form perfectly and commit to his point. “This took practise.”

Snafu refuses to meet his gaze but a flush warms his face that only confirms that there’s some level of truth in Eugene’s words. Snafu doesn’t slack on his efforts though, even for a second. If anything he sucks him just that bit harder, moves just that bit faster.

“You ever give yourself to any of those men?” Eugene can feel Snafu balk at him for daring to ask and his throat works as though he’s choking down a laugh. “They ever give themselves to you?”

He feels Snafu shake his head and swallow him down, sucking Eugene until he’s gasping and spasming and any further questions fly from his thoughts as he empties inside Snafu’s mouth. Snafu swallows everything that Eugene gives him, fingers rubbing circles into his hip soothingly.

When Eugene opens his eyes, Snafu is wiping his mouth on the back of his arm, his eyes following him almost carefully. There’s an amusement on his face that Eugene can’t quite place.

“You gonna bring this up every time we do somethin’?” Snafu demands but his eyes aren’t hard enough to stop Eugene from smirking in return. “Startin’ to think you get off on that kinda talk.” Eugene watches Snafu lean in close to him and kisses him slowly for a moment. “There’s a difference, y’know.” Snafu speaks softly but there’s a hint of a more serious edge in his words than before. “‘Tween lettin’ someone take ya an’ givin’ yourself to ‘em.” 

Eugene pulls Snafu in for a deeper kiss instead of responding. He’s not sure how true Snafu’s words are, if he’s taken a man like that before, can he really say there was no meaning behind it? No deeper feelings? Eugene can’t even begin to imagine letting Snafu take him and having there be no feeling in it. It can’t be true. If Snafu has had other men, does this mean he’s had other loves? If Eugene is not his first in the way that Snafu is for him, then what number is Eugene in this line of others? Where does he rank?

He says nothing but the thoughts sit with him, teeter on the edge of his mind for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap between the last one and this one!! The next chapter is likely to be a couple weeks wait too but hopefully things will speed up a bit after this. Hope you enjoyed!!


	10. Chapter 10

“Eugene?”

Eugene’s eyes snap open at the sound of his father’s voice. He jolts upright in blind panic, arm flinging out to grab Snafu’s shoulder and shake him awake as though there would be even a slight chance that Snafu would be able to get out of sight in the split second it would take for his father to walk through his door and see him.

His hand meets cold, smooth material and his eyes follow it immediately. Snafu is not there. He must have already got up and left. Eugene has gotten so used to this now, he doesn’t always wake up when Snafu leaves. The harsh relief that floods him just as his father’s eyes land over his disorientated frame, leaves him dizzy.

“Sorry son, I was hopin’ you might already’ve been awake.” There’s an air in his father’s voice, something almost secretive in his deliberately slow, careful movements as he closes Eugene’s bedroom door behind him.

Eugene rubs his eye groggily. “S’alright, wasn’t...” He trails off, the lie would be too obvious anyway. His father stands before him, hands working against each other like he’s not sure whether to move closer or not. Eugene regards him carefully.

“I was hopin’ to talk to you before your mother wakes.” He gestures to the end of Eugene’s bed and waits for him to nod before approaching and taking a seat with a small sigh. “I know things ain’t been...easy.”

Papa,” Eugene starts, sitting up a little straighter. A coolness prickles at the bare skin of his shoulders and chest but he’s half sure it’s not just temperature. He’s still trying to calm his heart from thudding almost painfully against his rib cage.

“Now, Eugene.” Dr Sledge holds up a hand in a gentle request to let him speak. Eugene gets the strong feeling there’s no escaping this discussion so he sighs but doesn’t interrupt him further. “I wanna apologise.”

“Ain’t you thats bein’ difficult,” Eugene mutters darkly. He knows it isn’t fair but his mother hasn’t been recently either. 

“But Eugene,” Dr Sledge reasons. “She don’t understand what men like you’ve been through. They don’t show it to the people who don’t need to know.”

Maybe they should, Eugene wants to bite. Maybe everyone should but he doesn’t voice it, after all it contradicts how hard he’s fought against talking about any of this with either of them.

“That’s why I’d like to apologise, from _both_ of us.” He adds before Eugene can speak again. “We ain’t been fair to you an’ we certainly ain’t been fair to that poor friend of yours.”

His heart lurches again. Any mention of Snafu feels like a defence now. The dinner with his parents, the fight with Sid, Snafu being the base around why Eugene and his mother aren’t speaking right now, there are no good connotations that come with Snafu’s name to the other people in Eugene’s life.

“I’m sure he’s a powerful confident for you,” Dr Sledge goes on, not appearing to have noticed if Eugene made even the slightest tell that the topic is making him uneasy. He supposes in a way, this entire visit was always bound to make him uneasy and he doubts his father would make the distinction even if he did show it. “Truth is, I reckon your mother struggles knowin’ this young man knows you in a way she doesn’t, can bring you comfort in a way that she can’t.”

Eugene shifts uncomfortably again. He knows what his father is referring to but regardless of that, his mind does not summon the same image. Snafu knows him in ways that neither of them ever could, in ways that neither of them could bare if they knew. It’s enough to pick his heartbeat straight back up from what little he’d managed to settle it.

“You know how your mother gets,” Dr Sledge sighs but there’s the ghost of a smile in there, fond and loving. “S’where you get it from.”

A hand pats his thigh gingerly and then there is movement as his father rises to his feet.

“That’s all I wanted to say. I hope you know I’m always ‘round if you wanna talk.”

Eugene nods appreciatively. “I know, papa.”

His father turns to the door, pauses and turns back again. “Your mother and I will be goin’ out for most of the day. I reckon some time away can only do some good but we will be back before this evenin’s dinner bell.”

Dr Sledge spares him one last meaningful look and then quietly excuses him out of his bedroom, footsteps growing faint within a few seconds, signalling his retreat.

Eugene feels his muscles relax but his mind is still racing. With or without the tension with his mother, he knows he hasn’t spoken to his father much, not like they used to before Eugene enlisted. There’s a divide that has formed between them. In truth, he misses how they were as much as he’s sure his father does but he can’t be as he was around him now. Maybe his father wants him to be open with him, talk to him about his time in the Pacific but even that would come with its limitations. Even if Eugene could bring himself to talk to him about that, there will always be this gap, this chunk of information that Eugene can’t give up to him. The fact that he went to that war a boy and came back a man, a man who fell in love with another.

...

“That’s good that he’s tryin’a make peace with ya, no?” Snafu suggests from his place on the window seat when Eugene recounts his father’s words to him. He returned to Eugene’s house around lunchtime.

Eugene purses his lips and shrugs. After all, it’s really not his father who’s a part of the issue here but it doesn’t surprise him at all that he wants things to calm down, being so stuck in the middle of this feud can’t be easy either.

“I think,” Snafu continues, crushing the butt of his smoke on the outside ledge of the windowsill and getting up to approach Eugene on his bed. He sits on the edge and leans forward to capture Eugene’s lips briefly. “You need to stop thinkin’ so damn much.”

Their lips meet again, Snafu controlling the pace, sliding a hand along bare shoulders to sit perfectly on the space where Eugene’s neck curves into his skull to take even more control of his movements. Eugene lets him mound him, manipulate him, lets his mind fall numb to anything that isn’t Snafu. The smell of cigarettes makes him long for his pipe and he presses his tongue forward into the taste. Snafu hums softly and parts his lips to allow him in, meeting him halfway with his own, growing more urgent and moving against him more firmly.

“Y’know.” Snafu pulls back from his mouth to trace his fingers along Eugene’s shoulders, down his chest and teasing around his abdomen suggestively. “Servants won’t be here for some time, right?” Eugene nods and Snafu’s smile grows into something rather impish. “House to ourselves. Don’t gotta worry about makin’ noise or nothin’.” His fingers reach lower and hook just underneath the hem of Eugene’s dungarees. “We gonna use that time wisely?”

“What’d’ya have in mind?” Eugene asks, following Snafu’s fingers with his eyes. The playful edge to Snafu’s expression falls and he averts his eyes with a small smile. When he speaks, it’s in a voice that almost isn’t his own.

“Ya need to ask?” Snafu’s glance drops to where his hands are currently playing and back up to stare at Eugene’s lips. “Kiss me, Gene.”

It’s hardly a demanding request since they were doing just that only moments ago but Eugene obliges him easily, hearing Snafu hum in the back of his throat when he does. Snafu nips at his lips lightly before parting his own, inviting him back in. Eugene dips his tongue forward but pulls back when Snafu tries to lean into it and meet him with his own, trying to tease him.

But Snafu, it seems, is not in the mood to be teased today. He rolls to the side, grabbing Eugene’s shoulders to pull him round and on top of him and then starts working on his clothing, stripping Eugene down while still going at his mouth, biting his jaw and chin as though trying to entice Eugene to mirror the actions.

“Gene,” Snafu mouths it more than voices it, Eugene can feel his own name brushing against his skin and he leans back closer to him once they’re both in no more than their underwear. “Gene.”

“Yeah?” Eugene breathes back, meeting his lips again. Snafu writhes around under him, their bodies rubbing together needily. Their skin is unbelievably close, the thin layer of material between them not doing much but also it is far too much space between them. He can feel how hard Snafu is underneath.

“Come on, Cher.”

“What you want?”

“You.”

“To do what?”

“Everythin’.”

He’s not sure if Snafu just enjoys being cryptic or if this is his way of telling him to make it up but he assumes the former while acting on the latter, lifting his hips enough to slip a hand down into Snafu’s underwear and massage him gently. Snafu lets out a beautiful little sigh and manages to hook a leg around him, shoving his calf against his ass, trapping Eugene’s hand between their clothed erections as he tries to rut up against him.

“Gene.”

“What is it, Snaf?”

“Make me yours, Gene.”

The words are spoken right against his ear so there’s no way in hell he could have misheard.

“What?” 

Snafu continues kissing over his ear, biting at the lobe lightly but Eugene stills his hand and lifts away to meet his gaze properly. Eugene starts to shake his head.

“Snaf, you don’t gotta-”

“Please, Gene.” Snafu’s heavy eyes fix him with a determined, unwavering stare. “I can take it.”

It was never so much a question of ‘could’, Eugene thinks, more a question of ‘would.’

“You’d do that?” Eugene doesn’t mean it like that but Snafu is already laughing before he can rephrase the question.

“You make it sound like I’m offerin’ to take a bullet,” Snafu smirks, bringing his hands up to Eugene’s shoulders and arching, just subtly presenting himself. “Come on, Gene. I want this, don’t you?”

Does he want this?

Snafu wants to give himself to him. He wants Eugene to give him his virginity, to give him his love in this raw physical way, the most intimate thing they can do. Does he want this.

Eugene’s eyes come up to meet Snafu’s, wide as he’s sure they’ve ever been and he nods his head. “Yeah.”

Snafu strokes his face and pulls him down to kiss him again. “Alright,” he whispers. 

“What do I gotta do?” Eugene asks as Snafu starts to shift up from underneath him. He manoeuvres Eugene to sit in his place and straddles his thighs.

“Relax,” Snafu says smoothly, amusement making itself far too evident in his tone but then he’s sliding Eugene’s underwear down and taking him into hand with determined strokes and Eugene lets his head fall back against the pillow with a sigh while Snafu works him over.

It’s not long before he starts to feel that itch in his lower spine, that familiar tightening in his balls. His stomach muscles start to flex on their own but he tries to relax them.

“Snaf,” he warns, expecting him to take it as his cue to stop stroking him but Snafu doesn’t stop, his eyes bore into his and if anything, he picks up speed just a little. “Stop, I’m close.”

“Good,” is the only thing Snafu says in return. He leans forward and captures his lips again, licking into his mouth just in time for Eugene to lose control, tense and spill over his hand with a gasp. “Perfect.”

“The fuck?” Eugene pants, watching Snafu climb off him and grab one of the handkerchiefs from his draw. He holds that same questioning glare even while Snafu returns and cleans the mess of his stomach.

“You’ll be glad I did,” he smirks cryptically. “We need somethin’ to make this easier.” Eugene stares at him blankly, still to dazed to understand. “Come on, Gene, you got oil or somethin’?”

Oh right.

“Shit, uh, wait here.” Eugene gets to his feet a little wobbly and quickly steps back into his dungarees. Even with the house to themselves, he feels just a little too strange at the idea of walking around naked.

He all but tip toes to the top of the stairs and ambles his way down and towards the kitchen. The tiled floor is cold against his bare feet and the slap of his steps seem to ring twice as loud in his ears.

This is it. This is happening. They’re about to step into a whole new world of territory.

Except that this is not new territory for Snafu. That evening after they first kissed, Snafu asked him if he wanted this, to take that step forward with him into the unknown. And yes, Eugene did want that, he does want that so very much but they aren’t taking steps into the unknown together, not really. This is only Eugene’s unknown. Snafu knows what lies beyond this point and Eugene can only follow blindly, feeling lost and inexperienced.

His eyes land on the various bottles of flavoured oils near the stove and his mind falls blank of those previous thoughts. Carefully picking through them, he finds a bottle of plain olive oil, opening the cap and smelling it just to be sure. Last thing he’d want is to find out only too late that it’s been chilli infused. 

Oh mother forgive me, he thinks as he turns, bottle in hand and hurries back up stairs, pausing to grab a towel from the bathroom, suddenly having the feeling it will come in handy. He returns to his room to the image of Snafu leaning back on his bed, having removed his underwear while Eugene was fetching the oil and is now stroking himself lazily.

“You were takin’ too long,” he shrugs at Eugene’s expression. He releases his cock and climbs up onto his knees, gesturing for Eugene to come to him. Eugene hands him the oil and strips off all of his clothes before climbing onto the bed. He takes a deep breath and lets himself be pushed back to where Snafu had just been laying, fingers splaying out, smoothing over his bedsheets distractedly. 

Snafu’s thighs feel warm against his as he straddles him again. There’s not the slightest hint of nervous energy coming from him. There is, however, almost a sense of importance in him but not in a cocky way, a certain level of responsibility that Snafu seems to have placed upon himself. 

“Guess you know what you’re doin’,” Eugene notes almost curiously. The sigh that comes from Snafu carries an air of defeat. One sharp exhale and all Eugene hears is ‘alright, fine.’ 

“Pretty clear this ain’t my first time, huh?” Snafu starts for him.

Eugene purses his lips, and gives the lightest shrug of one shoulder, suddenly feeling shy. Snafu’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Fourteen,” he says vaguely.

“Men?” Eugene asks. Snafu snorts humourlessly and shakes his head.

“Age, Gene,” he confirms and Eugene feels his own face drop, reflecting the sudden stone feeling in his stomach.

“No.”

“Mhmm.”

Eugene shakes his head. “That’s too young.”

“Was what it was,” Snafu shrugs.

“An’ the guy?” Eugene asks, half dreading the answer. His stomach only flutters sickeningly when Snafu averts his eyes, looking down into his hands again.

“Ain’t too sure how old he was,” Snafu mumbles and then shakes his head a little and blinks as though ridding himself of the memory. “He went away to college a little while after though.”

Eugene can’t decide what bothers him more, the fact it happened at all or the way Snafu seems so normal about it. “Why?” 

Snafu sits quiet for a moment. “I liked him an’ I wanted to. Look, I was just a dumb kid.”

Eugene nods his head quickly, feeling that Snafu has had more than enough of talking about that. “Alright.”

Snafu unscrews the cap of the oil and generously coats his fingers in it, a couple of cold lumps dripping onto Eugene’s thigh. Eugene watches with wide eyes as Snafu pushes his hips forwards and brings his arm back to press those slicked fingers inside himself, much less gently than Eugene anticipated. A small frown carves itself across Snafu’s brow that Eugene can’t tell if it’s from concentration or discomfort but Snafu doesn’t ease up or slow down for a moment.

“You been on both sides of this?” Eugene asks slowly, curiosity eating away at him too much not to ask but fully intending to follow Snafu’s lead on how open he’s going to be on this and ready to pull back at the first sign of stepping too far.

“I’ve taken men a couple times,” Snafu tells him distantly, the slightest strain lacing his voice. “I like it this way better.”

“Ever fuck any boots?”

“Course but I was a boot at the time too.”

“I know any of ‘em?”

Snafu shakes his head. “Most of that ended when we left Melbourne. Ain’t sayin’ ya never crossed paths with any of ‘em but none you’d know by name. Hell, I didn’t know most their names.”

Didn’t know their names? Eugene bristles at that, the lack of emotion and feeling that seems tied with these encounters bothers him in some way he doesn’t quite understand. His next question comes uneasily. “What was it just like some trade off for a pack o’ smokes or somethin’?” 

Snafu appears to find some amusement in that. “Come on, Cher. Can’t get a fresh pack o’ smokes for just ass wipe, you gotta be willin’ to give somethin’ up.”

Eugene’s not sure what the expression on his face is but it’s enough for the humour to leave Snafu’s face pretty quickly and he’s averting his eyes again to focus on the immediate task. He’s not sure if Snafu was just joking or not but Eugene wants to ask more, wants to step too far and ask about things he knows are too personal to be acceptable. And really what good would it do? Would it really help him to put confirmation to the images already plaguing his mind? Images of Snafu secretly fooling around with men in unused class rooms, in the showers, letting them sneak into his bunk after lights out, kissing them, touching them, dropping to his knees and sucking them, taking their cocks, letting them release inside him. Would it really do anything for Eugene to know the truth within these imaginings? 

“What was Sid talkin’ about?” Eugene asks. “The rumours. What does he know?”

The conversation suddenly feels twice as heavy. Sid is his best friend, this is more personal to him now. A cautious look falls across Snafu’s face and Eugene gets the feeling he’s realised this too.

“Word’a this stuff tends to get ‘round, s’how the guys know where to look if they want that.” Snafu looks at him kind of sheepishly. “Also I might’a made a pass at him, once.”

“You what?” Eugene balks.

“Dunno for sure,” Snafu tells him quickly. “I’d get real drunk before any o’ that anyway an’ I remember we talked once. If I did, he turned it down.”

Eugene almost wants to ask if can be sure of that since he was so drunk but he decides he’d really prefer not to know. He can’t even allow his mind to begin to picture anything in the area of Snafu and Sid even alluding to that. Another thought strikes him and it’s perhaps even more bitter.

“All the time we fought together, I never heard or saw you do anythin’...you didn’t make a pass at me.”

He expects Snafu to snort, laugh, roll his eyes or make some signal that he thinks Eugene is being foolish but Snafu actually looks uncomfortable for the shortest moment.

“Like I said, left most o’ that shit in Melbourne,” Snafu says but it’s more mumbled than anything, there’s no strength or commitment any of his words now. “Plus, don’t do that stuff with men in your own company. Too risky if it don’t go down good.”

Eugene’s not entirely sure he believes that but he lets it drop. He can’t argue that it makes sense to stick to a rule like that but he can’t help feeling like Snafu isn’t giving up everything there.

His eyes snap back to the present when when Snafu’s thighs suddenly jerk and he bites off a moan, his hard cock jumping eagerly and a small pearl of white beading at the tip. Eugene leans up, eyes widening as he watches him in complete fascination, earlier considerations forgotten. “That feel good?”

A shiver runs through him at Snafu’s answering nod, eyes drooping blissfully closed as he changes up the pace of his working hand. Eugene watches Snafu’s cock twitch and lurch every few seconds, more fluid joins the last and slowly forms an enticing path down his length. Dropping his gaze, Eugene eyes his own cock with discontent, laying between his legs with very little interest at all, not mirroring his feelings and certainly not enough to keep up with Snafu’s intentions.

The hissing sound of a barely there laugh reaches his ears and he glances back up to see that Snafu has opened his eyes again. “Won’t be like that for long,” Snafu promises.

“Why’d ya jerk me off before?” Eugene frowns, a hint of irritation in his voice. In some way it seems unfair that he’s sitting here trying to ignore the increasing burn in his cheeks when it’s Snafu who caused this current lack off solidity in the first place. 

“You would’a cum the moment you got ya cock in me,” Snafu tells him with an infuriating amount of certainty that does nothing to ease the apprehension in his gut. “Had to make sure you could last.”

Eugene scowls at him. He’s face doesn’t cool at all, in fact he’s almost certain Snafu can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks right about now. Desperate to drag the focus away from that as soon as he can and also with the hope of paying Snafu back a little bit, Eugene reaches up to trail his fingers down Snafu’s chest, thumb catching a nipple, lingering there for a moment at his responding sigh, siding lower, tickling along his stomach and smiling when Snafu tenses from it. He ghosts over Snafu’s cock, revelling in the way he leans against the touch and follows it with a needy whine when Eugene drifts lower without stopping to properly give him any friction.

“Play nice,” Snafu groans. A spark of mischief thrums through Eugene and he takes ahold of Snafu’s balls, certain that the heat of his palms must feel searing against his skin. Sliding back further, his fingertips find Snafu’s hand which halts at his touch and Snafu’s eyes watch him intently. Eugene meets his gaze while he lets his fingers explore, tracing over his hand, along his knuckles and to where he’s stretched around two of his own fingers. 

There’s the slightest shift on Snafu’s face when Eugene touches him there but he doesn’t say a single word, neither of them do. Eugene presses the tip of one finger against him gently but insistently, making his intentions clear and he feels Snafu’s fingers slide out of himself. He nods his head, telling Eugene he can explore? Telling him he wants him to? Eugene isn’t sure which but he carefully replaces Snafu’s fingers with two of his own. The first thing he notices is just how hot he feels and how tight. He imagines sinking inside that feeling and the idea alone is almost too much. He moves his fingers more determinedly and Snafu’s breath catches in his throat.

“There,” he breathes. “Right there.”

Eugene tries to copy the movements he made, tries to find that perfect angle that entices any positive reaction from Snafu. While Snafu had removed his own fingers, he leaves his hand reaching behind him, now touching Eugene’s hand like he had before, as though wanting to physically feel Eugene’s fingers sinking into him or feel himself stretching around them.

“The other men do this for you?” 

Snafu moans and shakes his head. “Some liked to watch me do it.” His head slowly tilts back while he seems to be struggling not to lose himself in the sensation Eugene is giving him. “Wasn’t really the aim to make this part feel good,” he says. “Jus’ s’long’s I could take ‘em.”

That makes Eugene want to tease Snafu up into a frenzy just like this, just to be one man who took the time to work him over properly. He increases the pressure of his fingers and plays him a little harder, spotting the way Snafu’s eyes flutter and a crooked grin ghosts across his face. Snafu must guess what he’s up to.

“Nothin’ to prove, Cher,” Snafu reminds him.

“Maybe not,” Eugene retorts. “Maybe I just wanna ruin ya for any other men.”

There’s a brief moment where everything pauses. The little humping movements that Snafu was making against his hand falters and every last trace of playfulness washes from his sweat streaked face. It’s a momentary blip, a split second of an entirely different air around them but before Eugene can even begin to process this sudden shift, Snafu is grabbing his wrist to pull him out of him and shoving him down onto the bed, following the movement and crushing their mouths together violently.

“Fuck,” Snafu huffs against him. He leans forward and Eugene feels the heat of a palm press against his shoulder. When he tilts his head to look at it, it’s covering the scar there. “Need you inside me now, Cher.”

The feeling of something rough and dry touches the hand that was just inside Snafu and he looks down to see the towel being being shoved into his grip. Eugene rubs the oil off both their fingers while Snafu kisses down his neck and chest, pausing to lick thickly over that scar on his shoulder.

Snafu glances down and hums contentedly. “Now that’s more like it.” Eugene follows his eyes to what he’s referring to, looking down to where his renewed erection hangs heavily in between his legs. Snafu slides his fingers over him delicately, making Eugene shudder sensitively. 

"Feels good, huh?" Snafu smiles at him. It's not mocking, there's nothing snarky about him in this moment, he works his fingers around the head of his cock until Eugene is twitching beneath him, tiny whimpers escaping his throat without permission. 

Snafu takes the oil into hand again and coats his palm with it generously. Eugene watches every move, every twitch of his hand, watches his pupils shift with the focus of his eyes.

“Come on,” Snafu urges him, both too soon and not soon enough, lifting his leg over to climb off Eugene and tapping his thigh to signal him to shift. Snafu takes his place, leaning back into the pillows, holding his oil slick hand away from the covers. He arches his back lightly, positioning himself, eyeing Eugene enticingly the whole time. Snafu bites his lip and parts his thighs slowly, teasingly, invitingly. If he weren’t so apprehensive, Eugene is almost certain his mouth would be almost watering at the sight of him alone.

His knees find their place almost clumsily, pressing into the mattress, Snafu’s legs bending lightly either side of him. A rough hand on his arm pulls him closer, Snafu is growing impatient but his eyes are still glued to his face and Eugene has a firm feeling that he’s looking for any sign that any of this is becoming too much for him.

There’s something that strangely reminds him of those moments before battle. An itch in the tips of his fingers, a tingle along the back of his neck, the sound of his own heartbeat, the dryness of his mouth. 

It’s not the same. But there’s _something._

Something that wants to trigger his natural responses but there’s no room for fight or flight here. Something that makes his muscles want to lurch of their own accord, to move a hell of a lot faster than he is right now. _Excitement._ There’s definitely some of that in there, enough to leave him shaking with it.

And then a smooth wetness engulfs the head of his cock as Snafu slides his oil covered palm around him, working down his length in long, determined strokes. He gasps and bucks his hips but Snafu doesn’t give him much before releasing him and wiping his hand on the towel again.

“Eager,” Snafu notes smugly. He pulls Eugene closer to him so he’s leaning over him, one hand dropping to the bed just next to his torso to hold himself up as Snafu shifts himself to accommodate him, parting his legs and pulling his knees up to rest against Eugene’s sides. Snafu takes the base of Eugene’s cock into hand and guides him to his entrance, releasing him to reach for his hip and start pulling him inside him.

“Go easy,” Snafu tells him, a strange tone to his voice. Eugene can admit it’s hard, the moment he starts to feel that tight pressure around the head of his cock, it takes almost everything he has not to sink into him in one swift movement. Instead, he keeps his eyes on Snafu’s face, even as his own mouth parts and his eyebrows furrow at the sensation. Oh, this is like _nothing_ he’s ever felt. Snafu’s lip curls knowingly. “That’s it.”

Snafu hisses at the same time that Eugene moans as he buries himself inside him, half shaking with the need to move. It’s only a few seconds but it feels like a lifetime before Snafu gives a little encouraging nod of his head and settles a hand on his shoulder. Eugene sighs in relief and carefully slides himself out and then back in as slowly as he can bare. His vision wavers and he repeats the motion, fighting so hard not to get lost in it all.

“Easy, Gene. Take your time. _Feel_ it.”

When Snafu speaks, the words are broken with what Eugene is certain is a desperate need to moan, to let go and sink into this with him but he seems to be determined to guide Eugene through this first part. And Eugene tries to listen, he really does. Every time he starts to pick up his thrusts with a natural need to jack rabbit into that tight heat until his mind numbs, a hot palm against his side or gripping his hip steadies him, drags him away from the edge of pure urge.

And Snafu has been here before, he’s done this, he knows how to make this good. Eugene trusts him.

He presses in deeper and feels his balls meet hot skin. Snafu says nothing but a small, almost wounded noise echoes in the back of his throat and it’s enough to make Eugene pull back a little. Snafu is not the type of man who’s going to easily voice his discomforts and he knows he’s going to have to try and pay attention to the subtle tells. It makes him wonder if this is something Snafu grew accustomed to during his time with these other men. And no, if he’s right there’s no way in hell he’s going to let this become another one of those encounters.

“Am I doin’ Alright?” He asks earnestly, rolling his hips again and trying to keep his focus on reading Snafu’s face.

Snafu has closed his eyes but they drift open at ships voice and he nods. “Feels real good Cher.” Snafu whispers and brings a hand up to stroke through sweat dampened hair. After a few more slow thrusts, Eugene feels Snafu’s legs sliding forwards, feet hooking around his ass to pull him in deeper. “Can go harder if you wanna.”

Eugene can’t resist the invitation to change up the pace, sinking inside Snafu deeper and faster but pulling back out nice and slow, Snafu’s rim dragging against his cock. He notices a steady shift in Snafu’s breaths, becoming increasingly laboured but not in discomfort now. It’s amazing, Eugene feels dizzy, his mind falling numb to the feeling of Snafu taking him in.

A few more thrusts like this and Snafu suddenly arches, his legs spasming and quickly scrambling to regain purchase against his sides, clinging onto Eugene twice as tightly as before. “ _Fuck,_ there, Gene. That’s it.”

Finally drawing a response he wants from him, Eugene leans closer so that he can feel the brush of every damn ecstasy laced exhale on his face as he tries to emulate that one perfect thrust until he’s got Snafu almost laughing underneath him, rolling his own hips to meet him. They slowly form a rhythm that works them both just right, Eugene’s fingers tightening in the sheets while Snafu’s nails claw at his sides in little sharp sparks that only add to it all.

“Ain’t ever had anyone like this before,” Snafu pants after a while and it almost startles Eugene, as though just for a moment he’d forgotten speaking existed. “Ain’t ever been taken this good.”

“Y’ain’t gotta flatter me, Snaf, y’already got me,” Eugene scoffs, feeling a little shy at the compliments.

“Nonna them meant a damn thing,” Snafu continues mindlessly, gripping him and caging his body around him as though he can’t physically get close enough to him. Eugene can only assume he’s referring to the boots. “Not like this does.”

A thought strikes Eugene. He looks down at Snafu laying beneath him. He’s sweating and panting, arching against him and it’s so hot Eugene can barely stand it but there’s something else, something in Snafu’s eyes when he looks back at him, an almost wild look. It’s not the same as when he fights, he doesn’t look caught or defensive. He almost has this vulnerability about him, like there’s something in this that perhaps even he wasn’t ready for. It’s a look that Eugene has only ever seen in him once before. An image of Snafu out on the fields appears in his mind, in that moment when he told him how he truly feels, how unsure and insecure he’d been, how much it seemed to mean to him to say that.

“You ain’t ever loved no one before,” 

And all of a sudden it makes sense. ‘There’s a difference.’ How else would he know? ‘Make me yours, Gene.’ Except that Snafu has already _given_ himself to Eugene in the form of three little words spoken outside with nothing but a cool breeze between them. The reason that moment had meant more to him than fucking any boots round the back of the barracks in Melbourne. The reason none of that feels like something worth talking to him about. And how could sex not be worth something? Eugene could never understand before. He doesn’t know how many other men Snafu has had but whatever the number doesn’t matter, Snafu has never had _this._ This really is new territory to him, even if not in the same way. Snafu was fourteen, there’s no way he got to fall in love first before he gave himself to that guy. 

And it had taken Snafu offering himself physically for Eugene to be able to recognise the gesture, truly recognise it, that Snafu had never needed to dwell on what it means to give himself physically because in his eyes, he is already Eugene’s. Verbally, emotionally, truly.

Is this what he wanted for Eugene? For him to be able to experience this for the first time, with someone he’s already so in love with? Because Snafu himself never got to have that?

“You wanna ruin me,” Snafu pants shakily, voice cutting out at every continued thrusts. He’s looking at him with such an intense stare, like he knows exactly what just went through Eugene’s mind.

Snafu thumbs at the scar on Eugene’s shoulder fondly.

“You never realised, mon Cher,” Snafu hardens his voice like he’s fighting to be able to speak clearly. “I was already ruined for any other men the day you got that.”

Eugene’s hips stutter for a moment at the admission. That was over a year ago, maybe closer to two. Could Snafu have really known then? Had he really felt this way for this long? Is this be why Snafu never tried to proposition him? How could a man fall in love but never so much as make a pass? Unless it was _because_ of his real feelings for him. Unless he could have never tried without knowing Eugene felt the same way back. Unless he couldn’t even bring himself to try because the rejection would have been too much for him. Leaving him on the train because it’s easier to reject himself before Eugene could even have the chance to, walking away and convincing himself it was his own decision, his own little protection. Because there was no room left inside Snafu to even dare to believe that Eugene could ever love him back...

And maybe there’s something in his face but Snafu is doing that thing again, acting like he can read his damn mind. Then he’s nodding and stroking Eugene’s face gingerly. 

“Fuck, Snaf.” Eugene can’t take it anymore, it’s too much. His heart is going to explode out of his chest. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

After that, it’s like something snaps inside Snafu. He’s writhing beneath him, hands roaming over him like no touch is enough. He’s humming and whispering, moaning out strings of words like he’s lost all control of his own mouth.

“That’s it, Mon belle Chérie. I’m yours.” 

Snafu’s clinging so damn hard to him, he’s sure his nails have broken the skin by now but Eugene doesn’t care. He wants it. Just like that first night, the bite. He wants Snafu to mark him so hard, it never fully heals, wants anyone who sees his marks to know that he’s owned, that he, Eugene Sledge _chose_ to give himself to this man completely, eternally. 

“Always yours, Cher.” 

"Snaf...Merriell," Eugene calls out his name amidst a long moan. "M’almost done."

"Alright Gene." Snafu arches up and takes his cock into hand, working himself in double time to Eugene's thrusts. "Go with it."

"You close too?" Eugene asks, his voice cracking with the effort not to lose himself. "Want you to finish with me."

"I'm right there, Cher, please," Snafu assures him breathlessly, tilting his head back and watching Eugene through heavy eyelids. “Come on.”

“I love you,” Eugene says again. He’s so close, it’s building and building, taking his whole body with it. It takes everything he has to keep his eyes on Snafu but he is determined to hold his gaze. “I love you, Mer.”

The hand clutching his shoulder comes up to hold his face, fingertips brushing the edge of his hairline, thumb swiping across his cheek in a touch that’s more intimate and tender than anything they’ve done on this day. Eugene cries out and his hips still, pressing as deep into Snafu as he can, wishing he could do more because nothing will ever be enough. His eyes lose focus despite his efforts and Snafu becomes a blur beneath him as he spills inside him. With one last cry of his name, Snafu is twitching and flexing and releasing between them. Eugene drops his head and kisses his neck and jaw gently while Snafu releases little strained moans for him.

They lay like this for a while, panting harshly, neither man wanting to break away and end this moment yet. They kiss lazily, their touches light and aimless, just pure and genuine affection. Eventually Eugene’s arms are shaking too much to be able to hold the position and he lets himself slide to the side of Snafu, following by making a little path from his chest to his shoulder with small pecks of his lips.

“Now,” he sighs, feeling the most satisfying fatigue he’s ever experienced. “Now, you’re m’girl.”

Snafu laughs and it’s so relaxed, so genuine and unreserved that Eugene decides he wants to see Snafu just like this as often as he can for the rest of his damn life. This is perfect.

They have to move some time though and Eugene groans as his tired muscles complain at his efforts to get up. Snafu tries to tug him back into bed, to wrap him in his arms so they can settle and sleep. He wants nothing more than to oblige him but even if his parents aren’t back soon, the servants will certainly be arriving to start cooking for the evening.

“Come on,” Eugene slowly manages to drag a drowsy Snafu out of the bed and into the bathroom, bundling him into the bathtub and joining him while the water fills. He pulls Snafu between his legs until his back rests against Eugene’s chest and he washes over him with soaped hands, works his shoulders and upper arms, rubs down his chest, loving the sighs and groans of relaxation he gets in return. He kisses the back of his neck, presses his nose into Snafu’s hair and just holds him against him. Snafu melts for him under all of this touch and he responds in kind, rolling over carefully to kiss him while soaping his chest and stomach. Snafu runs soapy fingers over Eugene’s limp cock and grins impishly as he shudders and squirms from the oversensitivity. 

After they’re clean and dry, they have just enough time to go downstairs, return the bottle of oil and grab themselves some food before the servants arrive for work. They return to Eugene’s bedroom and just spend the time together. They don’t talk all that much but it’s so comfortable that it doesn’t matter at all. Eugene is still all but tingling from the day anyway and it’s like even the idea of doing anything more than sitting near Snafu, quiet and calm, is already overstimulating.

It’s a little while before they hear the sounds of Eugene’s parents returning home and Snafu climbs back out the window with promises to return after dark as he always does. Snafu doesn’t leave his thoughts for a single second after that, not until a servant is knocking on his door at his mother’s request because Eugene was too deep in his own mind to hear the dinner bell. 

During dinner, he’s half afraid that his parents will somehow know what has happened that day. After all how could they not? Something as substantial as this taking place in his life is bound to leave some sort of mark? Some sign? Is he not different at all? He feels like he is.

“I, uh, signed up for some classes,” Eugene speaks quietly, more to his own dinner plate than anything. He notices his mothers hands pause from cutting her food but she doesn’t speak. Eugene looks up to his father who’s watching him encouragingly. “Alabama poly.”

“That’s...that’s really good,” his father says at length, eyes twitching between him and Mary. “What will you study?”

“Science.” Eugene takes a sip of water and falls silent, eyes still down on his plate.

“We will have to take a walk up into the town soon.” 

Both Eugene and his father turn to look at Mary, who’s gone back to cutting through her food almost nonchalantly. She cuts off a small piece and brings it to her mouth, speaking again before taking the bite.

“Gotta get you some new clothes before you start, when do you start?”

“Uh...I ain’t actually got in yet but if I do, then classes start in fall.” Eugene tells her slowly, not so much cautiously as hesitantly.

“Oh, you’ll get it, I’ve no doubt about that. We got a little time, then.” She hums to herself and nods as though already planning the day in her head.

Mary still doesn’t look at him for more than a passing glance throughout the rest of the dinner but this doesn’t surprise him at all. Things were never going to go straight back to normal with one worded gesture but it’s a start and the meal finishes with a much more comfortable air than when it started.

...

Eugene doesn’t tell Snafu about the discussion with his parents until the next day. Once he’d heard the light sounds of Snafu climbing through his window after Eugene had gone to bed, the conversation with his parents had been the very last thing on his mind once he felt loving fingers tracing over his arms, soft lips pecking along his shoulder blades, the glow of what they’d done that day still surrounding them, almost like a mist that nothing could penetrate. Their own perfect little world.

When Eugene did finally tell him, it was early afternoon the next day. He had received the telegram confirming his position at the University that very morning. Snafu was relieved for him regarding his parents and Eugene could only guess at how much the weight of their fall out had been visibly hanging over him, a constant tension within what was supposed to be the comfort of his own home was bound to be noticeable to others and Snafu, being the closest other in his life, must have been able to feel it even more.

"gonna miss me, sledgehamma'?" 

"Ain't goin' anywhere you melodramatic idiot." Eugene barely even looks up from his book, even when Snafu’s foot nudges sharply into his thigh.

"Won't be able to meet in the day like we do with you in classes an' me workin',” Snafu responds, crawling closer to him and pulling the open book from Eugene’s grasp to steal his full attention. “An' by the time we rollin' into bed at night, we'll be too tired to spend any real time together."

"When you ever too tired to spend time?” Eugene asks while Snafu plays with the fingers of one of his hands. “Ain't like I got far to travel, what the hell'd ya do if I were shippin' out across state?"

“I’d follow ya,” Snafu tells him, certainly. “Think I’d have any reason to stay here without ya?” 

Snafu places a kiss on his lips which Eugene draws out by parting his own and gently enticing Snafu into him. Fingers slide into his hair and he responds in kind, tugging the light strands as they curl themselves around his fingertips. Snafu pushes Eugene onto his back so he can climb over him, taking control.

Snafu hums. “See, I’d have to follow ya. I’d miss them lips too damn much.”

Eugene grins and shakes his head. It always baffles him just how few people know this part of Snafu, this openly loving and affectionate side of him, so soft and caring. He’d consider it a secret side of him but in all truth, Eugene has always known this Snafu, even out on the line, he was there, despite the strange and fucked up things he could say and do, there was never a single moment when this Snafu wasn’t present inside him somewhere.

Snafu’s lips leave his and begin a trail along his jaw and slowly make their way downwards, mumbling softly against his skin as he does. “Miss this neck for sure.” He moves further down and Eugene props himself up on his elbows to watch him while Snafu shoves his shirt up to reveal his chest. “Miss these collar bones.” Snafus tongue flicks tauntingly over a nipple, enough to spark something warm in Eugene but not lingering enough for him to really soak it up. “I’d miss these hands so much.” Kiss. “Especially these fingers.” He kisses each tip of Eugene’s one hand and then presses it to his cheek and leans into it. “They know how to work me so damn good.”

His face warms for a different reason but Snafu is quickly distracting him with open mouthed kisses along his stomach and navel, leaving little wet marks that feel cold when the air hits them. Snafu moves lower still, eyes flicking up to meet him through heavy, teasing eyelashes.

“Wanna know what I’d miss most?” Snafu grins and Eugene doesn’t even have to guess, even more so when he feels a firm palm press right against the exact part of him in question. Eugene’s breath hitches and he lifts his hips against the pressure.

“Think I know the answer,” Eugene breathes but Snafu is already undoing his dungarees before the last word has made it past his lips. He sighs when the cool air hits his cock just before it’s shielded by a warm hand stroking along the base while the hottest damn tongue swipes the head. Eugene’s eyes fall shut and his lips part around the faintest moan he can manage.

Neither of them could ever have been able to respond in the time it takes for the sound of the opening door to reach their ears, to be able to shield what they are doing before the unprepared eyes of Eugene’s father are taking in the scene before him.

Panic rips it’s way through his gut and Eugene is scrambling to drag his clothes back up his hips in the same second that his father whispers something that sounds like “What in the...” and Snafu is jumping up with a much less articulate “oh fuck.”

Dr Sledge’s jaw flexes and he steps into the room, quickly pulling the door closed behind him. Eugene is still on the bed, clumsily tackling his belt buckle but Snafu is already on his feet, pinning himself between Eugene and his father, one hand holding out as though warning the doctor to stay back.

“What,” Eugene’s father starts to speak but words fail him for a moment longer and he falters. “What in God’s name is this?”

It’s always been Eugene’s mother who was more strict regarding religious formalities but this is the first time in Eugene’s memory, that he has heard his father take the lords name in vain. When he looks at him, his father only has eyes for Snafu, wide and piercing as they seem to stare each other down. His father’s face grows ever redder and there’s a look in those eyes that unnerves Eugene more than anything else could. He finally jumps up from the bed when his father takes a step forward in Snafu’s direction and Eugene realises that he truly has no idea what his intention is. He pushes Snafu to the side and puts himself between them.

“Papa,” Eugene speaks, trying to get his eyes on him. “Please don’t hurt him.”

That seems to snap his father out of whatever daze that had been. He blinks and looks at Eugene briefly, confusion running through the lines of a weary old face. He raises a shaking finger to Snafu.

“I want you out of this house, right now.”

“I ain’t leavin’ hi-”

“Snaf!” Eugene turns sharply and if he ever thought that Snafu looked like a wild animal before, its was nothing compared to the image of the man before him, so trapped and threatened and _scared._ Eugene is shaking so hard, he can’t tell if Snafu is too or not.

“Gene,” Snafu’s eyes plead with him not to make him go, as if there were sides to be taken in a situation like this. 

“Please Snaf, I got it, just...” he doesn’t need to finish the sentence. He watches Snafu’s eyes flit between him and his father, unsure what move to make. Eventually, he must realise his lack of choice because he makes a careful rounded movement towards Dr Sledge, who’s standing between him and the bedroom door.

“No,” Dr Sledge, pauses him quickly. “Not the door, Mary will hear.”

Snafu’s eyes are on Eugene again, who’s barely able to raise his own glance from the ground at this point. He nods and then Snafu is ducking clumsily out of the window and the silence that follows is awfully deafening. Eugene’s body is angled slightly away from his father after watching Snafu leave and he can’t bring himself to turn back, to face the man that raised him after what he’d just walked in on. His heart is racing so fast, he’s half convinced that any moment, it’s going to jump out of his throat and follow Snafu to wherever he’s going. It’s surely better than staying here where he doesn’t need to see his father’s eyes to feel the hurt and disappointment boring into him.

“Eugene,”

“Please, Papa, I-”

“I don’t know how long...” his father’s voice has already softened but he still can’t finish the sentence, voice it, confirm what his eyes have already seen. “You’re mother cannot know.”

At that, Eugene’s eyes finally come up to meet his father’s. Dr Sledge doesn’t elaborate, instead he looks down at his watch and sighs.

“They will be ringing’ for lunch real soon,” he says as though it has already interrupted them. He’s looking around the room, turning to look at the bedroom door, avoiding Eugene’s gaze now too. “I...I can’t...I need to...” He looks as lost and uncomfortable as Eugene feels, as though he might regret walking in as much as Eugene does. “Come...come into my office after lunch...we...we gotta talk.”

Dr Sledge pauses at the doorway, holding it open just a crack. Eugene gets the feeling he wants to say something. He almost wants him to though he doesn’t know what. Comfort him? Yell at him? Throw a swing at him? Anything has to be better than this resigned unsteadiness. And then his father slips out the door and Eugene is left alone with nothing but the deafening thundering of his own heart and the sheer horror of the last few minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, apologies for such a long wait, there was a lot of rearranging to be done for this chapter so that I could add this warning in before the next chapter goes up.
> 
> After this chapter, im sure it’s pretty clear but I would like to add this note as a warning that this story is about to get very dark. I will tag as best I can but if you think, based on what has happened here, that you will be negatively affected by any of the following chapters, I urge you right not DO NOT CONTINUE THIS STORY. 
> 
> If you are not sure and don’t mind spoilers, you can message me through my [tumblr](http://scrapeourshoesonthestars.tumblr.com) and I will be glad to give more information.
> 
> If YOU CHOOSE to read any further than this, then that is YOUR DECISION and I WILL NOT respond to hate regarding the themes in the last part of this story. Having said that, polite constructive criticism is always welcome.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t imagine any reason why anyone would be reading this chapter without having read the rest of it but just in case, I highly recommend reading the notes at the end of the previous chapter, if you haven’t already, before you continue on with this one.

Shaking. His hand won’t stop shaking.

He barely touches his food. How could he even consider filling his stomach when it’s already so close to emptying what little is in there already? No. He just stares at his hand as it struggles to keep ahold of his fork, tries to force his trembling muscles to settle but the harder he tries, the worse he shakes. He’s so tense now strings would snap under less pressure than this.

Eugene's father does not say a word through lunch, from the moment the servants lay the food down onto the table, to the moment they clear it away, they barely even speak. And Eugene's mother says nothing either, just looks between them while she eats, hardly daring to break an awkward silence that she can't even understand. His heart won’t stop racing. There is no coming back from this, how could they have allowed themselves to become so careless, so comfortable as to almost think they were invincible.

As his mother is the last person to finish eating, the very moment he hears the light clatter of silver being laid down on the plate, he bolts up from his chair with the intention of leaving immediately. He freezes upon remembering his father’s request to speak to him. The room is silent, even the servants have stopped moving at his abrupt action and he can feel their eyes on him.

“Eugene,” his father’s soft voice reaches his ears and he almost shudders with the sinking dread in his stomach. Eugene manages to twist his neck just enough to at least pretend he’s actually looking at him. His father jerks his head towards the door to his office and Eugene nods silently and walks in that direction, each echoing footstep inching towards the unknown. His eyes twitch towards the front door and he wonders for a brief moment, just what his options might be if he were to bolt right now, bash through them doors and run.

He doesn’t run. The urge shoves against his chest with all its might but his legs only carry him into the brightly lit office. He stops in the middle of the room and stays stock still, face tilted to the ground, not even turning at the sound of his father behind him or the click of the wooden door being gently pushed closed.

A light touch to his shoulder has him recoiling violently before he can even take the time for his mind to comprehend the cause. He turns and staggers back with a gasp.

“Easy, son.” Dr Sledge bares him the palms of his hands in a show of surrender. Eugene wants to tell him he’s fine, he doesn’t need to take it easy but he’s a heaving quaking mess in the middle of the office. “Go on an’ take a seat just there, you look about ready to drop.”

Does he now, Eugene thinks sarcastically but he says nothing as he numbly pads to the sofa and drops onto the cool firm cushions, hands coming to the side to grip at the rough patterned material as if he can channel some of his nervous energy into it if he claws at it hard enough. His father leans against the front of his desk and considers him silently for a moment. Eugene can feel himself trembling and knows it must be visible, his right knee bounces distractedly, eyes averted.

“Eugene,” his father speaks his name at length and shifts from foot to foot uneasily. “Whatever you might think...I’m not upset with you.” 

As an opening line, he can’t deny it takes him by surprise and he wants to look at his father, to try and measure where this is going but for all his want, he just can’t bring himself to look him in the eye.

“This ain’t common but it also ain’t...unheard of. I’ve worked with men like this, ex-soldiers who found themselves in similar...predicaments.”

Eugene is certain his heart actually stops beating for a few counts. Predicaments? Just what does his father think this is?

“It ain’t your fault, men who go through what you have, it...does things,” Dr Sledge continues, still with that same reserved unease like the words taste like acid, even on his own tongue. “But there are...treatments.”

Eugene’s eyes finally trail slowly up to his father. He is no fool, he knows the kinds of facilities that these men get sent to, men that find themselves lusting after other men. Those people don’t get treated like they’re even human, there’s no way his papa would...would...

“You can’t be serious.” Eugene’s voice sounds weak and raspy in his own ears. All of his muscles go tense as though men in white coats are going to come busting through the door any moment to drag him away to one of these awful places. This isn’t some side effect, some result from the horrors of his past.

“Now, Eugene,” his father starts in an attempt to diffuse what he must be able to tell Eugene is drawing from his words. “It don’t have to be like whatever you’re imaginin’. Some of those techniques...” he trails off with a sigh, unable to even voice it. “They’re not used for instances like this.”

“You don’t know what _this_...” he cuts off his own voice. Too much, he can’t talk about this, not with him.

“Oh, son,” Dr Sledge mutters sadly. “I know how confusing this must feel.”

He doesn’t, Eugene thinks. He could never fucking know how this feels.

“The men I’ve worked with, they didn’t know either, they thought the feelings were real.”

“They were real.” His voice is so small. They are real. Eugene curls in on himself a little. No. This isn’t fake. This is so much more.

“You had feelings for other men before?” Dr Sledge asks him quietly. “Or is it just him?”

Eugene grits his teeth, purses his lips. He knows what his father is getting at but he’s wrong. Snafu might be the only man he’s felt like this for but that doesn’t make it anything less.

“Maybe he saved your life once, huh?” Dr Sledge points out. He’s speaking softly but the words burn through Eugene like someone is directing the sun on him through a magnifying glass. “Maybe you saved his a time or two.”

Eugene sniffs. That doesn’t mean anything, he saved other lives and others saved him, he didn’t catch feelings for any of them.

“...someone you talked to a lot, confided in, came to care for...”

“No.” Eugene shakes his head as though it could be enough to disorientate his ears from taking any of this in.

“...you went through hell together...”

“No” Eugene repeats, breathing picking up as he squirms under the words.

“...he’s the only one who understands...around each other all the time...start to care about more than his survival...”

He is the only one who understands because he was there. And not there like Edward and Sid were, actually _there_ with him, next to him the whole damn time, every heart-shredding second.

“...experiencing similar effects, terrors, struggles...maybe you found a peace in him, that drew you to him...”

No, Eugene thinks desperately, running his hand over his face and dragging them through his hair. Everyone who was over there is experiencing struggles like this, it’s nothing to do with how they feel about each other.

“...of course you’d mistake that for attraction...”

There’s no mistake. There’s no mistake. The mind wouldn’t be _this_ cruel.

“...not sayin’ the feelings ain’t real to you, son. I’m sure they feel very real...”

An unsteady sound leaves Eugenes throat, dusting scratchily across the back of his tongue. His father is wrong. They are real. Something that feels this strong, this right, can’t ever be a trick of the mind. Fuck, it’s consumed everything that he is.

“...don’t come from the same place as real love...”

No. Eugene shakes his head harder. His stomach twists sickeningly.

“...infatuation...”

No.

“...mind grasps onto the one thing it can trust...”

No. Please.

“...he feels like safety...”

That’s not it. That’s not it. Stop. Please stop.

“...can help rid you of these false emotions...”

No!

“Eugene?”

His heart is pounding unevenly, he can feel the irregularity, each skip weighing so heavily on his chest, it aches hard. His gasping breaths do nothing to ease the heaviness and he’s shaking so hard it looks like he’s convulsing. 

Dizzy eyes catch sight of hands coming closer to him and the urge to fight them off is strong, to shove them away but the room is spinning and he’s almost certain he will vomit at the first attempt of such a violent jerky movement.

The hands reach him, one taking his own trembling fingers, the other securing itself just behind his shoulder.

“Steady,” his father almost whispers to him. “Breathe, son.” 

That hand slips from his fingers and pushes itself up his shirt and against his chest, right over his wonky, jackknifing heart. 

“Oh, Eugene,” he says sadly. “Easy, easy. Take some nice deep breaths, now.”

He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until the choked sob that breaks from his throat rattles his vocal cords painfully. He’s staring at his knees but he can’t see a thing through the crystallised blur of tears and his father is rubbing firm circles into his upper back.

“I’m so sorry, son.” The firm circles cease and he’s being pulled to lean into his father. He doesn’t have the energy to reject it. “This ain’t what I would’a chosen for you. You have to see...the danger you’d both be in if anyone else were to know, Shelton even more so. The things they’d do...”

Oh he knows, he’s always known really, even if sometimes it felt more like a distant thought, it never truly left his mind just what the risks were. But his father is right, it had never entered his mind in quite that way before, that even through their mutual actions, the fact they are in his hometown and Snafu is the foreigner round here means that the risks have always been even higher for him.

“You see, son, what you gotta do, it’s to protect him too. Even if it don’t feel like it just now. You don’t want anythin’ bad to happen, do you? To you or to him.”

Eugene sniffs and shakes his head dismally. His father pulls him closer and leans his cheek against the top of his head.

“I know this is hard, son. I’m truly sorry but this is just how it has to be.” He rubs small circles on the edge of Eugene’s shoulder but there’s nothing comforting in it, even if it’s supposed to be. Eugene can barely feel anything, his skin tingles and hums sickeningly. “We can figure this out. I’m gonna help you through it.”

His father sits with him for a while, talking softly to him, just talking. Calming words of security and reassurance until Eugene is finally able to start responding to him again. When he does, his father moves onto the topic of arrangements. He wants Eugene to start coming to his office for their own kind of therapy, promising to brush up on his research and try to find the most suitable ways that they can try to handle this. 

Eugene feels his chest cave in when he hangs his head and gives the smallest nod. He has no choice here. That’s the only thing he’s certain of now. He doesn’t believe his father is right about this but some of the things he said were too close to the mark and it unnerves him more than anything else ever could, causes his mind to rupture in a chorus of what if’s. What if his father is right and this was caused by his time in the war? What if continuing to see Snafu and only confiding in him made this worse? What if his love for Snafu is no more than a cruel trick of the mind, no more real than the scenes that terrorise him from behind his sleeping eyelids? What _if?_

He knows what this means. He knows what he has to do. His father couldn’t ask it of him directly but the implications are clear enough. 

When he finally leaves the office, it’s not so long before dinner anyway, though the idea of food repulses him to the very core. He retreats to his bedroom and drops onto his bed to stare blankly a his wall until the bell rings for dinner.

His father is going to tell his mother that he and Eugene have agreed to try some techniques in an attempt to rid Eugene of his night terrors and help him to sleep. This will make sense to her under the idea that she would want him to be as fit and able as he can when the time comes to start his classes in the fall. 

He makes it down the stairs but one look at the laid out food is too much. Eugene excuses himself to his bedroom, ignoring the concerned looks from his mother and does not leave for the rest of the evening. His footsteps echo around the room. He's been pacing so much, he can barely see anymore. The room is spinning but he doesn't slow down. His heart is thundering in his chest and he's half wondering if he's gonna pass out. The idea seems preferable to anything else that could happen right now.

He knows what he has to do. Snafu is not going to give in easy. It’s going to get ugly, he can feel it now, it’s going to have to if he’s to have any chance of making Snafu leave. And god, he doesn’t want him gone but maybe one day Snafu can realise why he’s had to do this and it will be enough to forgive him. If he doesn’t make him leave and they were to get caught again. He shudders, unable to even let himself really think about what could happen to either of them but more to Snafu. His father is right. He hates it so much but he can’t deny it. He can’t allow Snafu to put himself in this much danger anymore, not for him.

He has to keep forcing back the thought in his head that's telling him to bolt. Panic, like spindly hands creeping up his spine and clutching at his shoulders while a silk like voice whispers in his ear that he can't stay here, that he's no longer safe. Eugene screws his face up and rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, physically trying to force away impulsive temptations. 

His fingers twitch, itching for a familiarity that he has not indulged in some time. His eyes flick towards his desk and linger on the rectangular box. He licks his dry lips, considers himself for a moment and then with a sigh, he fetches the object. He's about to open it when he thinks better of it and moves to the window first, lifting the frame and climbing out onto the canopy. 

Eugene feels the bitter chill, the late night air licking at his skin playfully but he makes no attempt to shield himself from it. He perches himself on the edge, one knee bent to his chest, the other leg dangling off the side. The small click of the latch as he opens the box sends a shiver through him. He takes out his pipe and scrutinises it between his fingers, remembering the smooth polished wood, it's specific weight in his hand. He brings it up to his nose and breathes in the tobacco scent that has marinated the wood with time and usage. He prepares his pipe to just as he always did and sits it in his mouth. The sharp strike of the match rings in his ears briefly, followed by the crackling sound of the tobacco lighting up when he presses the flame into it.

He inhales just as a long breeze comes, it tickles his ears as it dances past and he swears he can almost hear it, whispering his name. He closes his eyes and for just a moment, he's back on the soft sandy beaches of Pavuvu, the wind chasing his nagging thoughts away, just like the waves washed away their footprints in the sand. In this all too brief moment, he is not a body, hell he's not even a mind, he's air, just a repeating pattern of inhale...exhale...inhale...

"Gene." 

A voice snaps him from his thoughts. Not the whispers of the wind but a real human voice. His wide eyes search the darkness, trying to adjust to the lack of light. A shuffling noise, then a light thud and a soft face, framed with fluffy curls rises into his view as Snafu hoists himself up onto the canopy. Eugene startles and visibly tenses, that fight or flight instinct again, he doesn't know which anymore, it all feels the same to him now. Snafu's eyes hold him in place and he raises a hand calmingly, no air of his usual smirk decorating his face this time, his plump lips almost invisible in the tight line he's got them trapped in.

Eugene starts to shake his head and opens his mouth to speak but Snafu brings his index finger near his mouth to hush him and crouches next to him. Eugene sighs.

"Snaf," Eugene murmurs, glancing around as though someone might spot them up here. The pipe sits forgotten in his hands, the smoke, like a dog chasing its tail in the air around them. "You shouldn’a come here."

Snafu is eyeing him carefully, searching his face and Eugene distantly realises he's looking for any signs of violence. When Snafu speaks, there’s a shake in his voice. "What happened with ya ol' man?" 

"Nothin' happened, he ain't gonna do nothin'." It’s not entirely a lie but it’s a half truth at best and it still tastes like piss in his mouth, he feels his throat tighten as if his own body is gonna force him to stop. He wants to spit. "You can’t be here, you gotta go."

“I can get the motel back,” Snafu says like it’s such a quick fix. “We still got the field an’ the creek...”

Eugene looks down, shaking his head sadly and he can see in Snafu's expression, the moment when he realises what Eugene is inching towards. He reaches out a hand to Eugene's arm but he pulls away.

"Come on, Gene, don’t get like that.”

"Who were we fuckin' kiddin' Snaf?" Eugene can barely keep the hurt from his voice but it doesn't matter anymore. If Snafu doesn't already know just how much this is killing him, then he doesn't deserve to. "This whole time? How could we ever think that this could end any other way? Thinkin’ we could’ve had any kinda normal life like this?”

Snafu shakes his head, his wordless denial. Because he knows even Snafu can’t deny there’s some truth to his words. Whether he can accept it is another thing entirely. Snafu's expression turns mean. "Your ol' man's done somethin'." He accuses. "You wouldn't be sayin' this shit otherwise."

“Why’d you come here, huh?” Eugene snaps suddenly, jumping up to his feet. “Why’d you show up on my doorstep and fuck me up like this?”

Eugene can see Snafu’s jaw lock and it puts such a strained edge on his face, he’s certain it must ache.

“You don’t mean that,” Snafu’s mouth moves but his voice is barely recognisable. A heavy hand grasps Eugene’s shoulder and turns him in an attempt to force him to look at him. Eugene has to jerk hard to shove him off and he moves away, closer to his window. Snafu follows him, the hurt on his face growing angry. “You don’t mean any o’ the shit you’re sayin’.”

“You came here and dragged me into this,” Eugene hisses deliriously, body rigid and movements jerky. “You made me risk everythin’ to sink ourselves into some perverted dream world an’ it _fucked_ us.”

“I never made you do anythin’,” Snafu says. “Not a goddamned thing. You fell in love with me, that was _you._ ”

“An’ it’s the worst thing that ever fuckin’ happened to me!” It’s nasty. It’s untrue. But the flash of horror on Snafu’s face is the result he needs and he can’t back down now. “You should’a stayed away after you left me on the fuckin’ train.” He bites forcefully. “You should’a stayed at home an’ found yourself some little Cajun bit to screw, not travelled out here to toy with me like it’s nothin’.”

He dumps the toasted remains of the ash from his pipe off the side of the canopy roughly and stuffs it along with the box in his pocket. 

“You love me,” Snafu nods desperately as though to convince himself any doubt he’s feeling is certainly wrong. “Everythin’ we gone through was real, I know it.”

“Maybe I did,” Eugene turns on him. “War does some fucked up things to people. _You’d_ know that.” He can see it in Snafu’s eyes, he’s barely believing what he’s hearing. Eugene forces himself to look up and down Snafu’s cracking frame and shakes his head. “I must’a been outta my fuckin’ mind.”

Snafu opens his mouth, stutters, opens his mouth again but Eugene can’t take anymore.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ come back, you hear me? I see your goddamn face again, I’ll kick the shit outta you, myself.”

He shoves Snafu with one arm, more to make a point than really move him but Snafu still wobbles unsteadily near the edge of the canopy but regains his footing. The whites of his wide, scared, hurt eyes almost seem to gleam against the dark of the evening backdrop. 

“Fuck you still doin’ here?” He pulls the grimmest face he can muster and shoves him again. “Go on, get the fuck outta here!”

Snafu eyes him and it’s angry, oh it’s angry but the confusion, hurt and pain that looms underneath that is so much more difficult to see. Unable to take it any longer, Eugene turns back to his window before Snafu has moved.

“Gene!”

Eugene ignores it. As broken and desperate as it sounds, he can’t turn back, if he turns back now, he’s certain he will break and give in, take him in his arms and beg his forgiveness for what he said, swear that he didn’t mean a word of it.

No.

Instead, he climbs in through the window and closes it behind him, tugging down the blinds to block the outside world as if it would simply stop existing for having done so.

He sits down onto his window seat and holds his breath, his body rigid and tense. A whirlpool of emotion builds up so fast and so intensely that he's almost certain his chest is going to explode. He clasps a hand over his own mouth but there's nothing he can do for the tears rapidly welling in his eyes. He hears the dull thud of Snafu's feet hitting the ground outside and the tears spill. Eugene's back shakes violently and he struggles to steady his breathing. Reaching behind him to roughly grasp at a cushion, he pulls it around to his lap and tucks himself inwards, pressing his mouth hard into the material to muffle the sounds. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps against the fabric. “Oh Snaf, forgive me, I’m so sorry.”

The look on his face, in his eyes, like Eugene had just brought to life one of his biggest fears. Snafu doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know why Eugene had to do this. He’s still trapped in that little world they created where there were possibilities and securities, where it felt like they were protected from the horror that they could have faced if they’d been caught by the wrong person.

Eugene sure burst that bubble of safety.

He cries. He cries for Snafu, cries for himself. He cries until he runs out of tears, until he’s numb, just blank stares and vacant thoughts. Dawn arrives before he even thinks to move, but a flash of early morning sun hits his eyes, from where it hangs, so low in the sky and it's enough to bring him back. 

His eyelids droop heavily over dry, sore eyes. His entire body feels like it's made of lead but he knows he will find himself no sleep now. And he knows what's coming. Today? Tomorrow? He can't pinpoint that but there's no way he's coming out the other side untouched by the fact that his father walked in on him, in the position they were in. Momentarily, he tries to remember just exactly what that was but his mind falls severely short. He can only recall the wide eyes of his father and the audible gasp from Snafu which seemed to perfectly capture the very essence of the thoughts of everyone present. Oh fuck.

It takes Eugene almost everything he has to leave his room. But he does it. Because that's what it's all gonna be about from now on. Pretence. Cause his father isn’t going to allow a thing like this to hang over all their heads for the long run, he's going to do what he can to make this into something to be left behind, nothing more than a small snag on an old pullover. So he buttons up his fresh pressed shirt and he slicks his hair into a neat little do. Hell, maybe if he pretends long enough, it will become real. 

Pretence was never exactly a strong point of Eugene's though and it takes his mother mere minutes to realise something's not right.

"Good heavens Eugene." Not even a good morning, Eugene thinks wryly but his nerves are too alight to commit to the humour. "You look..."

Eugene can feel his fathers stare, it isolates him, fixes him right to the spot. He doesn't dare to look at him when he responds to his mother. He looks like shit, that much would be clear, he didn’t sleep a damn wink. "It's nothin' mama. Didn't sleep well, is all."

This does nothing to ease her worries. She flits over to him and looks at his eyes, pressing her hand to his forehead, ignoring his protesting attempts to shy away from the touch. "Well I hope your father and you can find some way to help with this.”

Now Eugene really is determined not to look at his father. So he’s told his mother what these ‘sessions’ will be. Briefly he wonders just what his mothers hopes would be if she knew the truth. His neck aches when he nods and he’s reminded of a night spent hunched over and crying violently. Oh it would destroy her to know the truth.

Eugene turns his glance in the general direction of his father, not letting their eyes meet. He nods again and mumbles something in the affirmative, blood running cold the moment he does. Whatever 'techniques' his father has in mind, they don’t have a thing to do with helping him to sleep and while he tries not to let his mind conjure up horrors based on hearsay, the queasiness of dread curls around in his stomach, makes itself comfortable and settles down. After all, Eugene is pretty certain it’s going to be around for a while.

...

Eugene lingers outside of his fathers office for a really unnecessary amount of time, considering that the doctor on the other side of the door is his own damn father. But as though his feet are glued to the floor, he can not take a single step closer. All he can do is stare at the suddenly huge, intimidating, hard wooden door, separating him from where he stands and whatever awaits him inside that room. And he doesn't know what it is that's stopping him. That's his father. The man who raised him, a man who he trusts with his life. He's not here to trick him, he's not here to do him any harm. Right?

The doubt that coils in his chest despite himself leaves him feeling sick with shame. He had been to his father as a doctor countless times for all kinds of reasons. But this is no usual ailment, he reminds himself bitterly. Because his father has heard of the awful things that happen to the people that get sent to those kinds of places to be 'cured'. But so has Eugene. He knows what kind of horrors those people are put through and the idea of being able to believe that his father would ever inflict anything like that upon him, he's not sure he can ever forgive himself for it.

Ultimately this is about trust. It has to be. His father wants the best for him, wants him to be safe and Eugene knows this. He rubs his damp palms down over his shirt for the nth time and forces himself forward. His knuckles connect with the wood of the door and the knock rings through his ears. His heart jolts at the familiar sound of invitation from inside and the need to run is almost too strong, his breath catches in his throat. He blinks hard a few times and forces his lungs to function correctly before he turns the handle and steps into his fathers office.

“Eugene,” his father greets.

Eugene stands in the middle of the room again, feeling so utterly exposed he wishes he were invisible.

“Take a seat,” his father encourages. “We can try an’ keep this one short if that’s easier.”

It’s not easier, Eugene thinks. Nothing’s ever going to be easy again. He sits. His father considers him silently for a while.

“I know how hard this must be for you, son”

“No,” Eugene mumbles coldly, his throat is dry and it makes his voice weak and scratchy. His lack of sleep is already wearing him down, making his thoughts dark and his words dark with it. “You don’t know.”

“No, I don’t,” his father agrees quietly. “S’why I need you to talk to me here, Eugene.”

Eugene knows this. He knows what is required of him, what he needs to do if this would even have a slight chance of benefiting him at all but how? How is he supposed to talk about it? Any of it. Trying to talk about the war is already too much but to talk about Snafu? Everything they’ve been through. How?

Every single word that leaves their mouths bounces off the walls of the vast room and it’s almost like Eugene has to hear it all twice, live through this hell a second time within the same moment.

“How...how long had this been, uh,” even his father is uncomfortable, that much is clear. Eugene props his elbow on the arm of the sofa and leans his mouth into the palm of his hand. He’s trying not to squirm around too much but this is already torture. “Was it somethin’ that began durin’ the...while you were still over there? Was Shelton returnin’ to continue this...”

Eugene’s eyes snap shut and he releases a harsh breath that could almost be considered humorous if this whole thing wasn’t so painstakingly awful. He gives a small shake of his head but his mouth won’t work. He can’t say it, voice the words to answer his questions. It’s too close, to personal, too near to things he’s been so desperately trying to keep secret until now, he can’t just come out with them. 

“So somethin’ that started once you’d returned, after he came to find you here?” His father is trying so hard to move the conversation along, to make even an ounce of progress with him. He doesn’t need the answer to that question though, he’s just confirming. “So we can estimate that this has been goin’ on for a few months?”

It’s funny. Eugene almost smiles. In reality it has only been a few short months, physically, intimately. But his mind gives him the memory of Snafu thumbing at the scar on his shoulder, admitting his truth to Eugene. Snafu has been in love with him for far longer and really, he never considered it much about himself but thinking about it now, he’s almost certain his feelings for Snafu were already there when they were serving together. He may not be able to pinpoint exactly when or how strong but they were but they were there.

“Now, Eugene,” Dr Sledge starts slowly and Eugene immediately feels a shift in the atmosphere. They’re approaching something difficult, he can _feel_ it emanating from his father, something even he doesn’t seem to want to discuss. His father pushes his glasses farther up his nose and sniffs. “There are questions that need to be...things regardin’ your health...I need to know...”

Eugene frowns, he already feels itchy at his father’s words, the distracted way in which he is stuttering them out but he’s not entirely sure just what he’s getting at. His father it seems, realises this and Eugene is certain he spots a flush start from his neck and spread up into his cheeks.

“There are... _acts_ that two men might perform that can be...things that are not entirely sanitary...”

“Oh.” Eugene’s head almost slips from his hand as he spasms upon realising just where this is going and shoots up to his feet. He shakes his head furiously. “I can’t. Papa, I can’t, I’m sorry, papa please lemme go.”

“Eugene, if you have participated in such acts-”

“Papa, please!” 

“Alright, alright Eugene, steady, calm down,” his father speaks softly. “We will have to come back to this, I hope you understand, it may take some time but we will get there.”

Eugene barely hears what he says, his mind only wants to focus on one thing, getting out of that damn room. His father approaches him and places his hands on his shoulders soothingly. He hears words muttered, something about trying to find things to help settle himself back into a normal routine, find things to distract him. He tells him that it’s imperative that no one should find out about what is going on here, for Eugene’s safety, as if he were about to go out and shout it down the damn street. Eugene nods, nods over and over again until his father tells him he can leave and then he’s out the door.

His feet carry him to the foot of the stairs, leading to his bedroom. But he doesn't turn or stop. He carries on past and straight through the front door and he walks. A repetition of one foot in front of the next, his mind so alive with the memory of what just happened, he can't even see what's in front of him.

He knew this would get personal, knew it would get private, intimate. Maybe he just hadn’t fully realised it but it was bound to come about. In that moment, he was truly unprepared for it. How can he ever be expected to be able to talk to his father about this? Something so exposed, so vulnerable. Those moments were for him and Snafu alone. No one else is expected to divulge the intimacies of their physical relationships if they don’t wish to, so why should he?

When his nerves finally calm enough to be able to focus on anything around him, he realises he's walked to the creek, just a little way up from the tree he spent so much time visiting with Snafu. 

Snafu. His heart sinks at the thought of him. Eugene wonders if he has left yet, returned to whatever awaits him back in Louisiana. But the familiar ache starts to fill his chest again and he forces his thoughts from him. A thunder is starting in his head and he doesn’t know how long it'll be before it's storming so hard, he can't tell right from left. The fields where he and snafu spent hours, even entire nights sitting not far from where he is and he starts wandering towards them. As he is about to cross over into them, he think better of it and carries on past. It’s not going to do him a damn bit of good to go there now. Everything is too fresh, too raw. Maybe one day he will be able to return there without the bitter nostalgia clouding his head. Then again, maybe not.

Unable to think of anything to keep him from returning home, he does just that. He spots his father briefly upon his return but no words are shared. Eugene averts his gaze, as he always does around his father now and heads up to his bedroom, not leaving again that evening. He has no idea why his mother doesn't come to see him, he spends most of the evening, waiting for the moment she comes through that door, wanting to know what's up with him. Perhaps his father has said something to make her leave him alone, and it pains him but he's grateful. He can't explain himself to anybody right now and his mother has always been too good at reading him.

He hasn’t felt so alone, so completely isolated as he is now.

He knows his father is expecting more from him, even if he didn't say it. Eugene is just not sure he can open up in the way he needs him to.

...

The next few sessions with his father don't change much either. Eugene can't talk about this with his father, he just can't. Telling him about his time during the war just makes it too real, somehow. And his relationship with Snafu, how can he even begin to try putting that into words. Still, his father tries everything he can to get him to open up with him. It doesn’t take long to realise that they’re going to need to try another approach.

"Hypnosis?" Eugene asks incredulously. He waits for any kind of smirk, or anything to let him know he's joking but that doesn't come. 

"Now, Eugene, this is a technique that is proven to be very useful with situations such as this."

Eugene barely manages to stop the scoff from leaving his lips. Just how many situations like this has his father dealt with? He conjures up images of men laying out on sofas, giving up all their deepest secrets, not even aware they’re doing so. He shudders, it seems so ridiculous.

“I understand it’s difficult for you to open up about this and I think this could be very useful for you.”

Eugene can’t argue. He doesn’t believe these meetings will change anything anyway but while his father believes they will, he wants to see some kind of progress. Eugene sighs, nods and agrees to try. He lays himself out on the sofa, the images of those men taunting him in the back of his mind, making him feel more and more silly with each passing second. He pushes them away and wriggles his head until it sits more comfortably, relaxing his hands across his stomach. This won’t work. He looks like such a fool. Eugene hears the wooden slide of the curtain hooks and the room falls a few shades darker.

With the room dim and quiet, Dr Sledge tells him to relax his muscles as best he can. Eugene tries his best but this feels so insane. A twinge of fear starts to burn away at him. What if it does work? Will his father tell him what he reveals or will he have to go on wondering what details his father has been privy to?

"I want you to imagine a staircase and focus on the top step." His father says, speaking in this very soft, powdery voice. "Try to clear your mind of all other thoughts and just picture that."

This is mad. He can see the staircase, sure but he can’t stop thinking about how stupid this all is. Clear his mind? Eugene is only just able to hold back another scoff. His mind will never be clear again.

"Try to relax your hands, breathe nice and deep, focus on the air entering and leaving your lungs in a steady, even manner. Now I am going to count down from the number ten. As I do this I would like you to shift your focus from the top step and move down one step with each number, continuing to breathe deeply. Close your eyes if it helps."

Eugene forces himself to stop playing with his hands. He hadn’t even realised he’d been doing it. He wonders if he’d somehow be able to convince his father that this had worked, if he were to just act like we was in a trance and tell his father whatever he wanted and he’d believe it.

"10."

It's not going to work. He’s going to have to pretend. 

"9...8...7..."

God, he’s tired. But he would be, he's laying on his back on a soft couch with his eyes closed and he's exhausted, from hardly getting any sleep anymore. He can pretend, he can make his father believe it.

"...6...5...4..."

It’s more comfortable on this sofa than he ever would have thought. He could actually sleep on here. Maybe he can fall asleep and his father will think he’s sent him too deep or something.

"...3...2...1..." 

There's silence for some time, Eugene is only distantly aware of it. When his father does finally speak, it sounds like the voice is coming to him through water. He can hear the words and feels like he should be able to make sense of them but he can’t. 

Images start to flit through his mind, small clips of vague memories. His dog running around their yard and then his hand dug grave situated at the back of it now. Saying goodbye to his parents. Arriving at boot camp. The first time he puts on his uniform. The way the boots rub his feet during his first jog. The Sargent yelling in his face during their morning count. Eugene can feel his cheeks burn the same way they had then.

The images move from boot camp to his arrival on Pavuvu. His excitement when he spots Sid, laughing when Sid tackled him. Meeting the guys. The hard eyed, soft faced Jay De L'Eau. The hard faced, soft eyed R.V Burgin. Then his mind settles on another set of eyes, pale eyes that could carry an unexpectedly mean stare but could also draw anybody into them at their own will. The eyes of Merriell Shelton.

His mind lingers on Shelton even as the memories flicker. He's standing in the Amtrac, tense and terrified, anxiously awaiting his fate. A pack of smokes are tilted into his view and he looks up to see wide eyes staring expectantly back at him. Snafu's gaze only becomes more amused when he refuses them and Eugene wonders distantly if he is secretly shaking inside just as much he is. Then Snafu is puking somewhere near Eugene's shoes and his question is answered.

The memory jumps forwards and Eugene is running for his life across moving, uneven ground. Snafu is just in the edge of his sight until the moment he isn't, taken down by the blast of a mortar and dazed enough to keep him there for a moment. Eugene is by his side and hauling a bewildered Snafu to his feet before his mind can even register the extent of the risk he just took.

'Thanks Sledgehamma.' The memory jumps again. Eugene gives Snafu a smoke and Snafu gives him a name.

"Eight. Nine. Ten." Eugene's eyes blink open and he's laying on a sofa with his father's eyes watching him carefully. It takes him a few seconds to think to remember the images in his mind, as though waking up and trying to remember a dream. Shit, he was awake. _He was awake._ He was going to pretend, he didn’t think it would actually _work._

“Take it easy as you sit up, you might feel a little dizzy.” Eugene does as he’s told but his head still swims giddily.

"Are we done?" He asks groggily, rubbing at his eyes. His head feels damn heavy.

"For today, yes." Eugene's father stands up and adds his newest notes into Eugene's personal file, slotting it away with the others. "You did well, we made a lot of progress here, Eugene."

His father returns, hands him some water and pulls his chair closer to Eugene before sitting down.

“You knew Shelton from when you first arrived,” his father says. It’s not a question and Eugene is glad he isn’t expecting an answer. He’s not looking at him but through his peripheral, he can see his father nod to himself as though he’s made some connection to that fact that Eugene hasn’t. “The kind of bonds you must have formed with these men...” he trails off and shakes his head.

“They’re good men,” Eugene sniffs. His father considers him with soft, silent eyes.

...

They continue this across a few more sessions. Dr Sledge puts Eugene into the same trance-like state and then gets to work, revisiting his memories. He's pretty sure it's messing with his sleep and he's sinking into the trances much easier and much deeper each time. Eugene also has no control over what he reveals and it disconcerts him but he knows he wouldn't be able to discuss it at all otherwise. His father seems impressed by the progress and its enough for a while.

Revisiting these memories is definitely toying with him. Most of what happened during his time in the war are things that Eugene consciously decided to leave behind once he stepped off the train. Sure, he can't stop the scenes that plague him through the nights but there were a lot of things that happened over there that he desperately wants to leave in the past.

Sometimes he lingers on some of the other men. One time, he spent more than half of it talking about Burgie but the moment he was brought out of it, he knew his father had found no use in that. And he wouldn’t, the only feelings Eugene ever harboured for Burgie were ones of respect and admiration.

The deeper Eugene and his father get into the hypnosis, the more uncomfortable the memories become. An Okinawan civilian is begging him to take her baby before she's obliterated by the wires around her torso. Eugene and the others scattering as they're rained on by their own mortars. He yells as he falls into a murky pool containing a rotting corpse and far too many maggots. Then he's shooting a wounded soldier and yelling in the face of 2nd Lt. Mac. An infants shriek rings in his ears. He cradles an elderly Okinawan civilian in his arms during her final moments. Snafu is with him during a lot of this. He was worried about Eugene, he never voiced it, heck he hardly mentioned anything. But Eugene knows he was.

When his father brings him out of the trance and the images flicker back into his mind, he feels so uneasy he can't bare to so much as look at his father. He’d thought that maybe he wouldn’t remember the things he tells him, which had been the most off-putting to him, not knowing what information he’s divulged to his father. But now he wonders if it might be better that way. Dr Sledge seems to pick up on his discomfort and Eugene is thankful that he just lets him go without discussing anything.

After that, the focus shifts back to his comrades, or...one comrade in particular. Dream-like images of Eugene saving Snafu’s life, Snafu comforting Eugene when he received word of Deacon’s death, the fight between them that ended in Hamm’s death. Snafu on the train, waking up to find him gone, opening the door of his house to see him standing on his doorstep. Walks over the field, the bright sun highlighting Snafu’s lean chest. Picked flowers scattering in the light breeze...

And then, like he’d always feared would come, things turn uncomfortable.

Snafu coming to sleep in his bed, holding him through a nightmare, stroking his hand and singing lightly to him while he writhes and cries. He can feel his chest swell at all of these memories. Their first kiss in Eugene's bed. Snafu telling him he loves him during Sid's wedding. Dancing with him under the stars...Hands in hair...mouths licking and biting at bared skin...nails clawing at backs...Eugene's hips thrusting wildly...Snafu begging him for more...Eugene moaning into his mouth...

"Eight nine ten!" Eugene is brought out of his trance so quickly, he shoots up into a sitting position. He's breathing heavily. His head whirls around to where his father is staring at him. For the briefest moment, Eugene catches a glimpse of what looks like horror on his father's face before he is able to compose himself.

Eugene realises that his cock is sitting hard in the confines of his trousers and he doesn't dare to look to see if it's noticeable. He would rather not know. Echoes of the moans he made in his memory ring in his ears and he's suddenly unsure if he actually made those noises out loud or not. His cheeks burn more harshly than they ever have in his life and his vision wavers, making him feel nauseous.

“I-I think...that’ll do for today.” Eugene doesn’t look up to the sound of his father’s voice, he stares intently at the floor, nothing but pure horror taking over his mind. Oh, he wishes he were anywhere else in the world right now, there is nothing worse than this. _Nothing._

His father tells him the time for their next meeting and Eugene is out of that room before he’s finished the sentence.

The sessions may end there and his father never mentions anything that happens within them outside of that room but it’s still always there, lingering in the background. His father _knows_ things now. He can’t erase the information he learns about his youngest boy in between these meetings and although he seems to make every effort to remain as neutral and normal as he can whenever they have to be around each other at other times, Eugene can still feel this cloud of knowledge hanging over them, suffocating them both.

... 

"I think." Eugene's father speaks slowly at the start of their next session, which they moved up to just the next day since Eugene could not manage to so much as look at his father and it was only a matter of time before his mother noticed something was up. "With the information I have gathered together, we may find it necessary to try to approach this from a...different angle."

Eugene does not move from his place on the couch, his head bowed, eyes on his feet and playing with his hands distractedly. He freezes at his father's words. _Oh god._

"There are some methods that have been designed to rid people of the more...physical temptations." Dr Sledge doesn’t elaborate but Eugene doesn’t even have it in him to be thankful, his face is burning and how whole body feels like it’s thrumming. His father stands up and walks to his medicine cabinet, pulling out a bottle.

Eugene finally lifts his head to the sounds, his tired eyes follow his father carefully.

"This." His father comes to stand in front of Eugene, holding the bottle out for him to inspect. "Is a syrup by the name of 'Ipecac', a plant based poison used to induce vomiting when consumed."

A deep frown creases Eugene's features as he scrutinises the bottle. He finally glances at his father in horror and returns the bottle to him. "Why?" He asks with a mouth that feels full of sand.

"You take a small dose," Dr Sledge continues, returning to his chair and taking a seat again. “It takes a little while to work and you just look at some images while you wait.”

"And this will make me sick?"

"Yes." His father answers, and there's an unhappy tone in his voice that Eugene can't place.

"And how is this supposed to...stop..." he can't finish the sentence but his father doesn't need him to.

"It has been theorised that this method will cause people to associate the images with the urge to vomit and thus, lead them to a natural aversion to the things within the images." 

Eugene pulls a face before he can even think to mask it. Just what exactly is in these images? What the fuck kind of barbaric method is this? Yes, he’s heard of much worse that happens at these places but by Christ.

“I’m only presenting this to you as an option, Eugene,” his father says in what seems to be an attempt to reassure him. “We will not do anything that you don’t agree to.”

Eugene almost balks. Why the hell would he ever agree to drink some bottle of shit to make him sick? “N-no...no...I don’t want...”

His father nods, not needing Eugene to elaborate. “Alright, son. I will keep ahold of this anyway.” He shakes the little bottle with a swishing sound. “If, at a later date you feel like it might be something you wish to try, it’ll remain an option to you.”

His father doesn’t make him go under hypnosis this time, he lets Eugene leave after and he goes straight out to walk again, something he does so often now.

It’s getting even worse, he thinks. He needs to do something. His father needs to start believing this is becoming a thing of the past. There has to be something he can do.

And then he gets an idea. An awful, almost cruel idea but it might be his only chance.


	12. Chapter 12

Eugene rubs his palms down the thighs of his dungarees while he stands on a doorstep he hasn’t set foot on in some years now. The early evening air prickles his bare forearms and plays with his hair. It’s unpleasant, he feels fidgety and agitated. Restless.

This is a terrible idea, just a really terrible idea. He’s only just knocked the door, if he’s quick, he still has a few seconds to get away before he’s seen. _Go now._ He doesn’t have to do this.

Except that maybe he does. His father isn’t going to leave this alone until he truly believes that Eugene is over it all, believes he is ‘fixed’. 

His feet feel like they’ve rooted into the ground even as he hears the click of the front door. An older familiar face greets him from behind it, a tall middle aged woman with reddish hair by the name of Mrs Hill.

“Oh, hello Eugene,” Mrs Hill beams, a honey sweet voice that he feels like he hasn’t heard since he was a young boy. “This is a surprise. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, fine, Mrs Hill,” Eugene all but stutters dumbly. “I was wonderin’ if Betsy might be home?”

“She certainly is, lemme just go get her for you.”

_Leave now. Turn and walk away. He can be gone before she comes to the door. Goddamn fucking feet. Go!_

"Eugene!" Betsy greets him with such enthusiasm. She’s always been lively, Eugene remembers running around his back yard with Deacon, Sid, Betsy and his brother, Edward. "It's been a while."

"Betsy." Eugene acknowledges politely. "Yeah...uh...Sid's wedding, right?"

"Right."

Eugene chats to her for a little while. It feels strange, Eugene hasn't made small talk with anyone in quite a long time. In the last weeks, he's barely spoken to anyone outside his own family at all. She laughs sweetly at almost everything he says, he's not sure if she's just being polite but he appreciates her effort. 

Was there somethin’ you need?” She asks him when things fall a little awkwardly quiet.

“Huh?” 

Betsy smiles and cocks her head. “Why’re you standin’ on my parents doorstep?”

"Oh...well I came to, uh, I came to ask. Would-would you like to go to dinner with me?" He laughs, feeling foolish as Hell and hopes to God it doesn’t sound as uncomfortable as it did in his own ears.

A smile spreads across her face, lighting up her blue eyes. "Eugene Sledge!" Betsy gasps, placing her hand on her chest in a humorous display of astonishment. "Well I never thought I'd see the day."

Both of their parents, or at least their mothers have been wanted them to get together for years and Eugene has a secret idea that Betsy always had a soft spot for the idea, herself. Eugene could never quite reach it on his own but she’s lovely, she’s beautiful and he could do a hell of a lot worse.

_And she could do a hell of a lot better._

He shuffles his feet uncomfortably knowing from the way she’s looking at him that she’s probably reading it as nerves. Bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck he asks, "So, is that a yes?"

"I guess it is," She teases and really she’s so nice. She’s always so damn nice. Why the fuck did he do this? "Friday night. Pick me up at seven?"

"Friday at seven."

...

"A date?" Dr Sledge raises his eyebrows. Eugene rubs at his eyes, clearing away the grogginess as he comes fully back from the hypnosis. Images of Snafu kissing him to sleep linger dimly in the corners of his mind and he sips a glass of water to dampen his dry throat from all the talking. "And...who..."

"Betsy."

"Hill?" His father asks. "Joseph and June's daughter?"

"Yeah."

"Eugene..." His father says with a clear uneasiness. "Young Miss Hill is lovely, and I'm sure your mother will be thrilled to hear about this..."

"But?" Eugene pushes bouncing his knee with a huff of irritation.

"However." Dr Sledge says conservatively. "Does it not seem a bit soon? What with everything that has happened recently, everything that's happening now?"

"I like her,” Eugene insists, voice rising a note or two. “I was plannin’ on doin’ it anyway before..." His father doesn’t look too convinced by his lie and really, Eugene never was very good at it. "Anyway, like you said, mama will be ecstatic to hear we are finally makin’ a go of it." 

"Eugene, it won't make you happy to pretend as if-"

"You think I'm happy now?" Eugene snaps. "Besides, _this_ " He gestures to the sofa he’s sitting on. "Is gonna work, an' then everythin’ will be as it should be." 

His father raises his hands to relent. “Very well but try to reserve some caution. It won’t just be your feelings at play anymore.”

_As if he doesn’t already know that,_ he thinks, biting his lip until it hurts.

That night, he is awoken early to the sound of his own whimpering. The nightmares returned a few days ago and now they’re almost as bad as they were when he first arrived back home. This time there’s no relent, no comfort, nothing to kiss away his fears and hold him through the crying. Now he’s as alone as he’s ever been.  
...

Eugene dips his fingers into his small tin of hair grease and rubs it over his palms. He runs his hands through his hair and uses a comb to shape it into place. A style he hasn’t returned to since before the war. His mother is going to love all of this. He straightens his collar, slips on a smart jacket and walks downstairs to where his mother excitedly starts messing with his clothing and spinning him around so she can get a better look at him. His father glances over from his chair in the living room.

"Alright, mama, enough, enough. I'm gonna be late." He pleas, holding her at bay. She beams at him, kisses his cheek one last time and waves him off as he heads out down the path of the their front lawn.

It’s only a few minutes away. Betsy's mother answers the door again. “Hello, Eugene.”

“Evenin’ Mrs Hill,” He suddenly feels quite shy, as though he hadn’t spent half his childhood visiting this very house. Now that he’s taking their daughter on a date, he feels like something of an enemy. Or maybe that’s just his own guilt for knowing where the truth of all of this really lies.

Eugene's face falls slack when his eyes first fall upon pale skin, loose dark curls and twinkling eyes. She really is so damn pretty, it’s like his eyes shouldn’t be getting to see this. It’s not for him, someone else deserves this so much more than he does. Betsy beams when she sees him and her pale blue dress dances around her knees as she hurries down the stairs. 

“You look amazin’,” Eugene murmurs as they get away from the house. At least with this, he knows he really means it.

“Well thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself,” she smiles back. “I like your hair.”

The town isn’t a long walk from where they live and they talk as they amble their way up. His mind is reeling. He should have cancelled, he shouldn’t have let it reach this point, he’s playing such a dangerous game here. What an asshole, he thinks. She walks very close to him. Sometimes her arm brushes against his and it makes him want to flinch away. Not because she’s not nice, god no, she is nice, too nice for him he’s certain of it. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to give off signals that he’s attracted to her now because maybe if she were to think this is going nowhere, she’d give up. At least if she rejects him first then it at least he wouldn’t be able to hurt her by leading this on.

They get into the restaurant and sit down with a drink before they move beyond small talking. He supposed he’d never really thought about it enough to anticipate but catching up, while fine when asking Betsy what she’d been up to over the last few years, suddenly became more difficult when the question was brought back around to himself.

“I’m sorry,” Betsy says, giving a tiny shake of her head as though it’s her fault for not thinking. “I’m sure it must be hard-“

“It’s fine,” Eugene says, more curtly than he intended and he sucks in a breath before daring to speak again. “Just...takin’ it all as it comes.” 

God he wishes it were easier to talk about, wishes he could tell her just like she told him what the last few years were like but he can’t. He’s starting to think he will never truly be able to talk about any of the things that went on over there for the rest of his days. He shoves away the sudden memories of Snafu holding him and hushing him while he cries his way out of another nightmare. Yes he could talk to Snafu. Snafu knew. Fat load of good that does him now though.

“An’ that fella from the weddin’.” Betsy adds, startling him back into the conversation. “You met him over there?”

Shit. He forgot she met him there too. She _knows_ who Snafu is. Shit shit shit. He looks away, trying to subdue the unnecessary panic this realisation causes. She almost caught them at the wedding, Snafu hanging all over Eugene as he tried to get him away from the venue. But then, Betsy herself had looked like she was hoping not to spot anyone familiar while she snuck off with that guy. She wouldn’t be here if she’d thought anything suspicious from that night and it’s enough to settle his thoughts and speak. “I, uh, I’m sorry, I can’t talk about...” _Snafu,_ he wants to finish. Snafu can’t be a part of this, not even just in brief mention. He knows she must assume it’s the whole war he can’t talk about and while she would be right about that too, it isn’t the war he desperately needs to avoid right now. Maybe she even pushed the topic towards Snafu thinking that would be a positive direction. And in most circumstances, maybe it should be. But this isn’t most circumstances. 

They get distracted when the waiter comes over to take their order and once he’s left, Eugene’s thankful when she doesn’t push any of it any further. Things don’t become awkward, as they often did whenever his mother tried to talk about these things with him. The subject moves on and the earlier blip is forgotten by the time their food is served. Betsy is good at this, he thinks. She’s diplomatic. She’s a conversationalist, a good communicator. God, is this a date or a job interview.

It goes quiet and he realises she's looking at him, wide eyes searching him curiously. When she sees that he's come back to himself she twitches her head, questioningly. Shit. How long has he been staring at her without relent? Stuck in his own thoughts.

"I’m sorry." He averts his eyes, internally beating himself to death. "I was just..."

A smile creeps across her face. "You're a deep thinker." She notes as though it’s endearing. Oh it wouldn’t be if she knew just what he was thinking, no doubt. He detects understanding in her voice. Of course he does. "I tend to go on sometimes."

"No, not at all." He trips over his own words. "I was thinkin’ about you, actually."

Betsy blushes and he realises that she has taken that differently but then her glance turns playful, flirty, and he thinks that somehow, it has worked out in his favour.

Later that evening, Eugene walks Betsy home, both with a couple of drinks in them. He feels looser, a little more relaxed. Even with this whole new set of expectations from the date, it has always been easy to be around Betsy. 

Just before they reach the doorstep, Betsy takes him by the hand and pulls him around to the side of the house and out of view. While his mind is still trying to figure out what's happening, she stands up onto her tip toes and kisses him sweetly on the lips. He sucks in a breath, not quite a gasp and almost forgets to kiss her back. She pulls back, her eyes flicking between his own eyes and his lips, measuring his reaction. Yet another smile quirks the one corner of her mouth when he makes no move to protest her actions. Letting her eyelids droop closed, she leans in again, pressing their lips together and pushes him gently against the side of her house.

His hands fall naturally to her waist and he pulls her against him, deepening the kiss. She sighs when their bodies press together and she brings one hand up to the back of his neck, the other one gripping his shirt. 

They're both breathless when they part. Eugene leans back in but Betsy stops him with a teasing smile. She thanks him for a wonderful time and politely bids him a good evening, though her eyes still twinkle with mischief.

Eugene thinks of nothing else as he walks home. He gets this glimpse and it's like he can almost see his own future with Betsy. This is how it's supposed to be. His father is wrong, she doesn’t have to get hurt in any of this, she doesn’t have to know it’s not all real. He’s going to take her on dinner dates and kiss her on the doorstep. They will meet up and sit together to study and go on walks. He can bring her home to his parents, his mother will be so happy. They will have sex. Oh boy will they have sex. And he does want to, of course he wants to, she’s gorgeous and she’s so nice, why wouldn’t he?

Or at least, he _will_ want to. He will. The kiss was great and she was really into it. He will get more into her. He’s just got to get to know her more romantically and he will get there. Until then he can just act like he’s a little more there than he is but that’s okay. He will make her happy. He won’t hurt her like his father thinks.

...

Eugene sees Betsy frequently over the next couple of weeks. Dinner at each other’s houses. His parents love her, they always did. Everyone’s thrilled they’re making a go of it, though he does catch silent looks from his father sometimes, especially when she’s there too and it always sends a shiver of nervousness down the back of his neck that rings through his ears, sounding much too close to _He’s onto me._

He always pushes it away because there’s nothing for his father to be ‘onto’. He’s not lying. He likes Betsy. He does.

Eugene doesn't tell Betsy about these secret sessions with his father, of course he doesn't. There’s no way in hell she’d remain interested in him were she to learn a thing like that. And boy does she seem interested in him, from the heated glances to the suggestive touches. He starts to get into her too but it feels different somehow. He loves her company, he really, truly does and kissing her feels great but while he can feel her responding to his body with her own fervour, his own body sometimes remains uninterested to the point of flaccidity while other times, he’s so hard he’s certain she must be able to feel it from where she’s pressed against him. He’s just one huge contradiction to himself.

It only becomes more apparent on the evening that Eugene takes Betsy to the movies.

Barely halfway through the movie, a hand covers his own, sitting idly on his own thigh. He tilts his hand and tangles his fingers into hers but the hand soon fights its way out of his grasp and rests onto his thigh. Eugene turns his head just a touch, so he can look at Betsy but she keeps her gaze fixed onto the screen, even as her hand starts to slide inwards a little, to stroke his inner thigh. The room is fairly quiet, which is lucky, Eugene thinks. There's almost no one sitting near them and those who are near are in front so they can't see what's happening and he starts to wonder if perhaps this is the reason she asked him to go in the first place. He’s heard the stories of couples who get up to these kinds of things in the back of movie theatres but do people really actually do it? 

His eyes return to the screen but his attention does not follow suit at all. He can feel her hand squeezing lightly and drifting closer and closer. He tenses and he knows she can feel it because of the small smirk that plays at her lips, savouring the tease. 

Her hand brushes against his clothed cock and he breathes in a little sharper. She palms him firmly and he slides down in his seat, glancing around and feeling exposed as hell. This only achieves her some more room to play and she moves her hand further up and slips it under his dungarees. It's a tight fit since they're still fastened but she is able to move in enough to stroke him with nothing more than his underwear between her hand and his skin.

Eugene shivers at the risk of what they're doing and lets out a weak exhale. Betsy laughs silently and leans in closer to him, so that her mouth is by his ear. 

"Y'know, my parents are out for this evening too. The servants will have gone home by now, so the house is empty." She emphasises her words by squeezing him again. His eyes meet hers.

"Right now?" He asks, wishing to hell he were better at masking the sense of panic that hits him instantly. "What about the movie?"

"If you can tell me anything that has happened in the last five minutes, we will finish the movie first." She challenges, hand still massaging him, teasingly. It feels good, it does. Why can’t they just stay doing this! There’s no expectations here. Oh god.

"Uh, I..." Betsy smirks like she’s won something and removes her hand, gathers her things and quietly leaves the room. Eugene gives himself a few seconds to gather his wits and he follows her out. He doesn’t need to worry about anyone being able to see his erection because in truth, it started the wilt the moment she made the suggestion. It’s nerves, he thinks, he was hard as stone when she was groping him on his seat a few moments ago. He’s got to stop being so nervous.

They get to Betsy's home in no time at all and as soon as they're inside, she grabs his hand and drags him up to her bedroom. Eugene briefly takes in her room. This is the first time he has set foot in here since he was a child, no way her parents were gonna be letting him in here while they’re home, no matter how damn much they like him. It looks different now but there's still that familiarity about it. The once pale blue walls are now cream and the room now lacks a significant amount of stuffed animals. He remembers because he used to throw them at her and she’d go crazy about how she spent ages arranging them in some specific way and it only took him seconds to mess the whole thing up. She’d laugh as she said it though. Oh how different he was then. Another life.

Betsy pulls him over the the bed and makes him sit down onto it before moving across to her bedside table, pulling open a small draw and taking out a slim cardboard box which she hands to Eugene. He doesn't have to ask what it is and he also doesn't dare to ask exactly when she got them either. "We should be safe." She shrugs, sitting down next to him.

Eugene glares down at the thing, just yet another example of how different this is going to be than his time with Snafu. It has never even occurred to him to get one since he started seeing Betsy, it’s not like he ever needed them with Snafu.

Betsy's hands fall to his shirt and start to undo the buttons. He sits still and looks down to watch her hands dumbly. She works slow and once she gets his shirt open, she tenderly slips it from his shoulders and leans in to take his lips in a soft kiss. When she moves away again, he watches her eyes jump to the side as she catches sight of the small, thick scar on his shoulder. He follows her gaze and when his eyes settle on it too, they're both reminded of this other part of life that Eugene has seen.

She reaches forward and ghosts one thumb over the damaged flesh. A flash of white behind his eyelids, someone calling his name in panic, shaking his shoulders and begging him to be alright. He flinches from her touch like it’s made of electric. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“S’alright.” Betsy moves the hand that touched his scar down to his arm as though to comfort him, voice soft like she’s trying to tame a scared animal. “I didn’t mean to...”

Eugene takes her hand and kisses her, more as a distraction than anything. He can't talk to her about that. He can't take her to that place, that’s Snafu’s place.

He fights to force his mind away from that scar, from the day he got it but it’s impossible. He recalls the blurs of dull colour around him as he moved frantically in the panic of battle. A sharp sting on his shoulder and then everything was bright white and it took him a while to realise he had fallen and was staring up at the colourless sky until a dark silhouette blocked out the light as it loomed over him. Then arms were shaking him and he could hear a voice but he couldn't make out what it was saying. He squinted and slowly, wide green eyes full of fear came into his vision, dark curls a mess that framed a dirt marred face. He realised the voice was calling his name and he clasped a hand onto Snafu's shoulder to quiet him and let him know he was okay.

And then the moment they were out of immediate danger, how he had to all but fight Snafu off of him, as he tried so hard to tear the blood stained material from his shoulder so he could see the damage. Snafu had been so worried for him, even after revealing he'd only been nicked and Eugene had never thought much of it. But now... _now._ And from that moment on, things did change. Maybe Eugene could never truly realise it at the time but now he thinks he knew, even if Snafu hadn’t told him that fact during their first time, some part of him knew. The way Snafu always kept him so close by after that, always checked on him in his own Snafu way, never happy to let him out of his sight. It became a thing amongst K Company, that Eugene Sledge and Snafu Shelton were an inseparable pair. And of course jokes were made about that, crude jokes that could never be repeated outside of a situation like that but there was never any accusation in it, it was funny, relaxed. It’s only now that Eugene can be aware enough to realise that Snafu had never responded to these jokes, never countered with his usual quick wit.

His mind snaps back when he feels hands playing at the buckle of his trousers. Betsy is smirking at him.

"You get ever so lost in your thoughts, Eugene Sledge. I guess I need to step up my game." She flirts and nips his ear playfully.

The memory of Snafu biting his ear flashes into his mind and he internally scolds himself for thinking about him so much, here, now. He kisses Betsy harder and starts to strip her of her own clothing. He presses her back to lay on the bed and as he moves to climb on top of her, she takes the opportunity to shove his dungarees down off his hips, dragging his underwear along with them and takes him into hand. He’s not hard enough for her to stroke and she seems to settle with squeezing him gently, clearly trying to encourage him. Eugene drops his head to kiss and bite her chest, hoping to find inspiration somewhere. 

"Gently." She guides when he nips her a little too hard. He looks at her apologetically and goes back to kissing his way down her bare stomach, moving his cock out of her reach as he does. He curls his fingers into her underwear and slides them down her thighs and she bends her legs and spreads her thighs so he can settle between them. 

He kisses her hips and moves his way closer, feeling her tense and squirm underneath him and when he finally gets his mouth on her, she lets out a harsh sigh and combs her fingers into his hair. He works her over the best he can, hoping he can at least let her enjoy this but his mind is a mess. She doesn't smell like him. She doesn't taste like him. This whole thing is a constant reminder that she is just not Snafu.

Eugene can feel his arousal dimming, even as he tries so hard to focus on his task. He brings one hand down and grips at himself and strokes himself roughly while he drags his tongue over her. Betsy doesn't appear to have noticed if anything isn't quite right and Eugene takes it as a sign of encouragement. 

He releases his cock once he's firmed up a little more and switches hands so he can bring his fingers to her entrance. Pressing two inside her, Eugene massages her insides, all the while flicking his tongue repeatedly over the place that makes her breaths come out the shortest. 

"Stop, stop." Betsy pulls him up until he's face to face with her. He runs the back of his hand across his mouth. She picks up the little cardboard box laying discarded on the bed and presses it to him. "I want you inside me."

It’s supposed to be hot, his cock should turn to steel at those words, it did with Snafu. _It did with Snafu._ God he’s not going to be able to get into this if he keeps thinking about him. A lump of anxiety balls in his chest. He's not nearly hard enough. Still, he shifts back and starts messing with the box, clumsily pulling a rubber from the packet. He sits back a bit and looks down at his disobeying cock and, cheeks burning against his will, he takes himself in hand again, trying to work quickly. He feels the anxious lump turn into burning frustration as he tries to arouse himself enough to at least get the damn thing on.

"Here." Betsy sits up. She shifts so she can push him to lay down on his back, as she had just been doing. "You're so nervous, you're like a little lamb. This your first time?” She laughs but it's understanding, not intending to insult him which is even worse in its own way. This whole thing is so dishonest, he can’t even look at her. He feels the the rubber being taken from his hand and he wants to tell her to stop, that she deserves to be doing this with someone else, someone who’s genuine and not just a fucking wreck right now. "Relax, I know just what you need." 

He doesn’t stop her, not even as she straddles his knees and leans down to take his cock into her mouth. And this is just where things are going to become awkward, Eugene thinks. Because his cock is going to remain stubbornly flaccid even as she does her best to work him up and she is going to realise it’s more than just nerves. He looks down to watch her, holding his breath for the moment she stiffens as realisation strikes. As she tilts her head downwards to sink down onto him further, her dark curls fall forward, covering most of her face and Eugene is suddenly reminded of something he wishes to God he wasn’t. He remembers a similar visual, only from a different person with different kinds of curls.

The image sends a shiver down his spine, so intense it makes him arch with a surprised sigh. Betsy presses her hands onto his hips to hold him still and starts to bob her head gently. She doesn't take him nearly as deep as Snafu did and the image flicks back to her. He breathes heavily, hands shaking with the shame of daring to keep imagining him while she does this for him. She doesn't deserve this, she's much too sweet for this.

Still, he can't stop his mind from turning her into him when it so easily provides him with such an image and he's soon got his head thrown back, moaning repeatedly from the fantasy. He glances down and it's not blue eyes looking back at him. Instead, wide green eyes flash impishly up at him as his cock disappears between plump lips, the tan skin a contrast against his own. Snafu works him so perfectly and he brings a hand down to take a fistful of his soft hair, using the leverage to pull him almost completely off his cock and then pressing him back down, forcing him deeper just as he knows Snafu loves.

Betsy pulls up from his cock quickly with a cough and her eyes meet his, the fantasy fizzling away in an instant. He tears his hand from her hair immediately. "Oh God, Betsy, I'm so sorry."

"Eager boy." She notes, a little more carefully than before. She looks back down and strokes him slowly. "Now this is more like it." She gestures to his cock, sitting in her hand, hard as fucking iron. Another bolt of electricity leaves him shaken. God, Snafu said those exact words during their first time. It’s like every time she moves or speaks, she does something to remind him of Snafu but she’s also not like him enough, she can never be Snafu enough. She looks at him proudly but he can't meet her eyes. 

He sits up and holds his cock steady while she slips the rubber over him and then she’s lifting herself up to sink down onto his lap, his cock pushing up into her as she does. Betsy starts to roll her hips slowly, leaning down to kiss him again, moaning against his lips. Eugene's hands slide around to her lower back and he tries to urge her to move faster.

Once again, he is reminded of just how unlike Snafu she is. She is lovely, so sweet and beautiful and really, she should be enough. He should be lucky to have someone like her be so into him but she’s not Snafu. She’s just not. He tries to force himself to look at her and stay in the moment but he can feel himself faltering again. She slows her hips and circles more than bounces her hips. Oh god, she’s noticing.

“Easy,” she whispers, stroking his hair and kissing along one eyebrow. She’s so close to him. “It’s alright.” She takes one of his hands and brings it to her breast as though to help inspire him but it does nothing and he soon slides the hand to her thigh instead.

Feeling nothing but pure shame, he closes his eyes and he lets his mind imagine slimmer, bonier thighs. The image before him shifts in his mind again and it’s moments before he's sitting up and leaning back onto his hands to be able to push up and meet the thrusts. He feels the body around him move faster, push down onto him harder, he hears the pleasured moans and he replies in the same tongue. He opens his eyes and it's Snafu working himself down on him, tipping his head back but still fixing him with his unwavering, heavy-lidded stare that drives Eugene crazy, mouth slack around a string of moans and sighs and sends him racing towards his end.

Their thrusts falter and he’s so lost in it, he can almost _feel_ the imaginary fluid dripping onto his stomach. _Oh Snafu._ He gives himself into the fantasy, grits his teeth and humps his hips up quickly until his mind falls numb with sensation. His head falls back against the bed. _Oh Snaf._

Eugene's lust filled haze clears and is immediately replaced with something much darker. The fantasy ends. It's Betsy who relaxes forward and presses her forehead to his. Betsy who kisses him sweetly while they catch their breaths. Betsy who wipes away the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead. And he can't even look her in the fucking eye knowing what he just did.

His stomach is turning so hard when he leaves that he realises he doesn't actually remember how he got out of there without making things very awkward. He's not even entirely sure that he _did_ manage to. His mind whirls and his head spins. He stumbles his way home and tracks his father down in the living room just long enough to tell him he wants to do another session as soon as possible and then dismisses the concerned and questioning glances in favour of taking himself upstairs and into his bedroom, a place he has spent a heck of a lot of time in these recent weeks. 

He throws himself down onto the bed and rakes his hands through his hair. 

The first time Eugene had ever really considered what it meant to feel attraction to another person was during a class break at school. He was around nine years old, bursting for a piss and while everyone else went running out into the courtyard, he made his way to the toilet. A small shuffling noise from behind him wasn’t enough to make him look around, another boy entering the toilets was nothing to look at but as he tucked himself away and turned around, he almost tripped over his own feet to find a girl who he knew from his class. Rosie. She was just standing and facing him but not really looking at him. He stared at her uncertainly, wanting to ask what she was doing but unable to bring himself to speak, as though it were none of his business. Before he could do anything else, Rosie suddenly stepped forward and pressed her mouth to his. Her eyes stayed open the whole time and so did his. Hers were averted but he didn’t dare look away, just stared at her magnified features, so close to his own. She didn’t so much kiss him as press a part of her face against his own and there wasn’t even so much as a tiny sucking click of her lips when they left his.

Rosie didn’t look at him afterwards either. A heavy flush flooded her soft cheeks and she rushed from the toilet without a word, leaving a completely dumbfounded Eugene to wash his hands. It wasn’t until later on that he learned from her giggling friends that she’d lost some sort of bet with them and kissing him was her forfeit.

Eugene hadn’t really minded at the time. He had never really had much of a full interest in girls, even when he got a bit older. Not like the other boys at his school did when they’d all been willing to give away half the things they owned just to be able to get a feel of a girls bare thigh. Eugene didn’t feel it. Not when his fellow K company marines balked and drooled over that picture of Peck’s Kathy Jones while the only comment he’d had to offer was that he’d marry her. And he would have, given the chance, he’d have married Kathy Jones, he’d have married little toilet Rosie, he’d marry Betsy because that’s just the kind of guy he is. “Marry? Who said anything bout marry?” He recalls those words, never before had he considered his way of thinking to be unusual. Doesn’t every boy wanna marry their every sweetheart? Isn’t that how it works? No. Marriage was never what those boys had on their minds.

Lust. That was it. Eugene remembers the first night he and Snafu had truly stepped forward together with both their eyes open. When they’d ended up humping against each other on this very bed, swallowing each other’s moans, trying to be so damn careful. Right on that same night, Snafu had told him he’d never regret this and Eugene had agreed. He wonders if Snafu still feels that way now. He’s not sure he truly wants to know the answer to that. Eugene doesn’t regret it. Maybe he should, he’s almost certain his father would think he should but he doesn’t.

It wasn’t until Snafu that he started to understand it. To realise that he’d never really experienced something as complicated as lust, something as burning and urgent, a desperate need to touch and taste and smell. And of course there’s love there, oh boy a love he’s never felt for anything in his life. He could want to marry every girl he sees but he could never want to spend his life with any of them like he could have with Snafu. He could spend every damn waking second with Snafu and never get enough, even when he pissed him off, he only ever wanted him close.

Betsy will never piss him off. He already knows it and at first he thought it was because she’s just so damn nice, he could never imagine being able to get mad at her. But that’s not it at all. It’s because he could never feel anything enough for her to make him feel as passionate as to get pissed at her. He hates himself to admit it. Oh God does he hate himself. He hates that he doesn’t regret it at all. Even after everything that happened, all the shit he’s in now, he doesn’t regret a single moment they spent together, because the only thing that’s worse than this is if none of it had ever happened at all, if Snafu had never turned up on his doorstep, lost and confused, unsure about anything other than the fact that he needs to be close to Eugene again. He doesn’t regret it no matter how hard he tries to. And that won’t do anymore, it’s not fair on Betsy. Snafu has infected him, taken over his mind, his soul, his heart. But he can’t have Snafu now. That’s all gone and he can’t see any way to ever be able to accept that, the feeling sits in his chest, grips along the base of his throat, it feels thick, heavy, it stops him from ever being able to take a full breath and he can’t take it anymore.

Something needs to change.

...

 

“Alright.”

Dr Sledge looks at him with questioning concern from across the room of his office. He’s very good at staying professional, even when treating his own son but in moments like this, sometimes his face slips and he’s just Eugene’s father again, just his old, worn, worried papa. 

Eugene sighs and nods his head in the direction of the medical cabinet. “That plant stuff.”

“The Ipecac?” 

Eugene nods. “How do we do it?”

His father looks uneasy. He always seems to look uneasy whenever Eugene opens his mouth these days. “What changed your mind?”

“How do we do it?” Eugene repeats without looking at him.

“Eugene, if something’s happened-”

“I wanna try it,” Eugene snaps. “What harm can it do at this point?”

Dr Sledge sighs but relents and stands up, moves to the cabinet and measures out the correct amount of Ipecac for Eugene’s size and weight. “If you’re sure.” When he offers it to him, there’s a heaviness in the air, something cold and uncertain that makes the hairs on the back of Eugene’s neck stand up. He takes the cup.

While he tries to bring himself to drink the syrup -the idea is much easier than the physicality of doing it- his father pulls a projector out from its place by the wall and sets it up near his desk chair, aiming it at a blank wall and switching it on. There are no images yet, just this huge square of light looming over the wall, the dust glittering in front of the ray of projector light.

Eugene glances down at the small cup, tilting it and watching the syrupy substance level inside. He sniffs it and hesitates again, it has no scent but his stomach already tense, as if preparing to lurch at the idea of what it's going to do to him. His father places a bucket at his feet and then moves to sit down by the projector and waits for Eugene to make the next move. It was his father who told him about this damn stuff in the first place but now that Eugene is agreeing to it, he senses some level of dubiousness from him.

He breathes in deeply a few times, spares one last glance to his father before tipping the cup back and taking the syrup into his mouth, aiming to swallow it before he can really think about it. He catches a sweet taste that's not unpleasant and he's thankful for that at least. The urge to gag dies after a few hard swallows to force it down.

He places the little cup down and Dr Sledge takes this as a signal to start so he slots in the first slide. A series of images of men in various states of undress flick up onto the wall. So that’s how this is going to be, Eugene thinks, feeling an unsavoury heat flare around his collar. It's nothing difficult to view so far, hell he had seen more from the other boots back in the war. 

For the first ten minutes, nothing happens at all. Eugene continues to watch as image after bright image containing a minimum of one man is burned into his vision. They are almost always fully nude by now. It doesn’t feel unnatural and it certainly does not arouse him. Some of the images involve men touching, perhaps a little more intimately than usual, considering the lack of clothing but nothing truly suggestive. He wonders just how much his time in the war really blurred the lines of intimacy. There was no privacy over there, no personal space. Having other men touching intimate parts of his anatomy became something of a norm long before Snafu started to share his bed. 

The next image shows two men engaging in a kiss, one affectionately holding the others face, while the other has his waist. He notices his father drop his gaze for a few seconds and Eugene just feels dreadful. Is his father disgusted by this image? Is his father disgusted by him? Eugene doesn’t feel disgusted by that image. Those men look like they care about each other, what can be gruesome about that? He just doesn’t understand it.

That’s the point of this though, right? To _make_ him feel disgusted. The images get more intimate, more explicit and it becomes harder to look, not because of the images themselves but looking at them with his father. Where the hell did he even get them? Eugene is almost certain that these later images are not commonplace in any medical journals he’s ever seen. He’s had enough, he doesn’t want to see anymore and he’s about to tell his father to give up for today, when a sudden sharp pang of the most intense nausea strikes him and he buckles forward with the power of it, groaning harshly at the painful sensation of it.

From the very edge of his vision, he can just about make out the silhouette of his father tensing in his seat, starting as though with the urge to come to him. “Eugene?”

Eugene has just enough time to croak out a pitiful plea before his hands are grasping at the bucket and he is retching, emptying the contents of his stomach into the metal with a face-creasing thud. It ceases just long enough for him to moan in pure hateful discomfort before a second wave rolls over him and he's heaving again, head low into the bucket, stomach lurching and spasming uncontrollably.

He can't even look at the images anymore, he's too busy with his head dipped down into the bucket. The base of it grows warm against his supporting hand. God, this is grim, he thinks. How the fuck did it get to this? He wonders what Snafu would say if he saw Eugene doing this but as the bitter taste of bile burns in his throat, he panics and pushes the thought from his mind. If this is going to work and successfully complete it's intended purpose, then fine, he can become disgusted by the acts of intimacy with another man but he cannot bring Snafu in here with him. He cannot become disgusted by Snafu. He's already removed him from the equation, it will be enough. It will be enough.

When he has done nothing but dry heave painfully for a few minutes, his father turns off the projector and walks over to Eugene carefully, holding a glass of water. He waits for Eugene to stop twitching, until he's just shaking over the bucket and takes a seat next to him on the sofa. Gently, he pulls the bucket away from Eugene, it takes him a moment to pry the fingers of his one hand away from where he’s been gripping the rim of the bucket so hard. 

His father hands him the glass of water, not letting go until he’s sure Eugene is not going to drop it. “Take it easy,” he warns him. “Sip it, don’t drink it fast.”

Eugene’s stomach aches and twinges, keeps sending these small waving sensations as though he’s going to retch again but it always eases before he actually does. He keeps taking small sips until he empties the glass and his father makes him stay there for a further fifteen minutes until he’s sure Eugene isn’t going to start vomiting again. He asks Eugene if he wants to discuss anything and he only looks longing when he refuses but Eugene feels to drained to get into anything with him now. He might not vomit anymore but his stomach feels strained and queasy and horrible. His father finally nods and lets him go.

The moment Eugene gets out of there, he goes straight to his bedroom. He tries stepping out onto the canopy for some air but it only leaves him restless. He wants to go for a walk but movement makes the queasiness even worse and he ends up curled up on his side on top of his bed, groaning to himself and feeling utterly pitiful in this moment. 

...

That same night, he wakes up on top of his covers in a furiously cold sweat, feeling so dizzy and sick he rolls from his bed and staggers straight for the bathroom. By the time he gets there he already knows he’s not going to throw up but he sits down onto the floor next to the toilet bowl anyway, the aching pressure in his stomach making him feel weak and irritable. His shirt is soaked through and it rubs awfully against his skin with every small movement, clings to his back.

After a little while, he’s certain that nothings going to come up -mostly because his stomach is completely empty- he drags himself up to his feet and pads out into the hallway leading back to his room. He’s not completely sure why but while he’s walking, his eyes land on the doorway to his brothers room and he suddenly finds himself walking towards that instead.

After Edward moved out, Eugene’s parents kept his bedroom as it was. His neatly made bed still sitting in the corner, his draws that are empty now still stand where they always have. Eugene wonders, almost cruelly if his mother would still do the same with his bedroom, were she to know what his father knows. The worst part is that he’s not actually sure what the answer to that would be.

He walks to the back of Edward’s room to where his desk is. It’s one of the only things in this room that hasn’t been completely cleared. The wall just behind it is decorated with the bright red flag he brought home with him, the desk itself also holding the weight of various other objects that some might consider spoils of war. Eugene is not entirely sure what he considers them anymore.

He doesn’t know exactly where Edward got ahold of the revolver but it sits central on the desk, perfectly polished, on its own stand like a true trophy. He knows his brother is proud as hell of that gun. Eugene lifts it up to examine it closer, opens the cylinder to find it empty as he expected. He wonders if his brother is really as proud as his display suggests. He thought he’d feel the same, thought that if he returned, it would be feeling like a true hero but in all truth, he couldn’t possibly feel any further from that anymore.

His parents are very proud of Edward, the son who returned home, still functional even if half of it was a pretence at first. Eugene doesn’t have even that energy in him. Besides, how proud can a father be proud of a son while watching him yack up the contents of his stomach to lewd images of men a few times a week? Functional or not, he’s already ruined.

Functional. Even Sid, who hasn’t been home all that much longer than him, has still found a way to be able to move forward and start putting that horror behind him. Was it Mary? Is that the key? Edward has Martha. He had Snafu for a little while. And for a little while, it was enough. He was getting better. Maybe the Eugene back then could have believed in the possibility of moving foreword. He’s not sure what this Eugene believes now.

A floorboard creeks and he decides that’s enough for the night. Clicking the empty cylinder shut, he returns the gun to its stand, closes the door behind him and, quietly as he can, returns to his own bedroom before he disturbs anyone.

He’s not even sure why he went into his brothers bedroom in the middle of the night. He only feels worse now than he did before but at least now he’s not feeling sick. He tosses and turns for a while, trying to stop his mind from reeling long enough to get back to sleep. It’s not until the sun starts to peer in through his window, lighting up dry, sore red eyes that he finally gives up.

...

He starts taking the Ipecac up to three times a week, his father won’t allow any more than that, told him it will strain his stomach muscles too much and just make him ill. Even with this amount, Eugene feels a constant burning ache down his entire front whenever he moves now. Just as the ache dims, he takes the syrup once again and over it starts.

He’s also in an almost constant state of nauseous, this being a direct effect of the Ipecac. He can eat a couple of hours after he’s finished throwing up what feels like all of his internal organs but he rarely wants to. He will try to get something down, even if just to please his mother, who takes a very worried stance on his sudden drop in appetite.

“Sometimes I swear you’re gettin’ skinnier,” Betsy remarks, sliding one arm across his half sunk-looking bare stomach and leaning her face into his chest. They’re in her bed. They’ve just had sex. Eugene is still reeling from it. He had to imagine Snafu again. The Ipecac has had zero effect so far and he’s had to imagine Snafu every damn time he’s screwed Betsy since he agreed to try that stuff out, just over three weeks ago. His father can’t give him a measure of time on this, since it’s apparently different for everyone. Eugene wonders how much the men being made to take this just get fed up of feeling like they’re three steps from dropping dead all the time and start pretending they’re cured in order to stop this nonsense.

He hates when he thinks this way. _He_ agreed to this because _He_ can’t fake it well enough to be able to fuck his damn girlfriend. He’s supposed to want this to work. He’s not sure he has the energy to want things anymore, he’s always just so fucking tired. He barely sleeps now. Without Snafu, the nightmares returned and they came back with a vengeance.

The light pressure of Betsy’s arm on his stomach is enough to make him feel queasy and he’s quick to drag it down to his side and entwine her hand with his as a means of explanation. She seems happy enough to go with that either way.

“I should probably get goin’,” Eugene mumbles groggily, her bed is actually really comfortable and while he might never admit it, even to himself, sometimes he will imagine Snafu even when he’s just laying with her like this. “ ‘fore ya parents get back.”

“I told you the other night, my parents are stayin’ at some little motel for the night so they could go watch that borin’ old guitar player I can’t even remember the name of,” Betsy reminds him. Eugene feels terrible. He must be so vacant to her most of the time, it’s like he’s never truly able to escape his own thoughts, not even for a split second. He’s never truly present and it should feel good but it doesn’t because everything is so away from him now, like he’s listening to the world through a wall and looking through fogged up glass.

He doesn’t even realise he’s closed his eyes until he hears a deafening bang landing immediately next to him and shaking him so much as he tries to scramble away that he doesn’t notice how uneven the ground is and ends up losing himself as he stumbles and rolls backwards down into a pit of thick mud and blood and dead Japs. Snafu, who’d been crouched down next to him just seconds ago, leans down into the dip and starts clawing at his shoulders trying to drag him back up before it’s too late. But he already is and the next thing he’s aware of is the Japanese soldier standing at the summit of the dip, on the other side from where Snafu is. The Jap aims his rifle at Snafu and Eugene screams and lurches up to block him from harm. Another bang followed immediately by a piercing, sharp pain runs through his chest and he falls back hard, smacking the back of his head thickly against polished wood floor.

_Polished wood floor?_

“Eugene!” Comes a shrieking female voice. Betsy. She’s leaning over him and trying to wrestle his arms to his side and stop him thrashing about but he manages to catch her shoulder and shove her hard enough to send her tumbling away from him and then he’s scrambling backwards, escaping the tangled bedsheets and tearing himself away until his back hits the wall on the opposite side of her bedroom.

Finally everything stops moving for long enough for Eugene to catch his bearings. His heart is beating so fast, he’s almost certain it’s going to give out any second. Betsy had already gotten up from where she landed and is now staring at him with a caution that was far too close to fear for him to handle. He wants to stand up too but his head is spinning too much, he rubs his eyes hard with the palm of his hand and shakes his head. He can hear Betsy’s heavy breathing in between his own.

When he stands up, still wobbly on his legs, he finally takes a full proper look at Betsy. She looks so worried and timid and... _confused._ “Betsy, I...”

“What was...” Betsy starts to speak but he can tell she’s not quite sure if she should ask, if it’s okay to.

“Did I...did I hurt you?”

“Oh, no,” Betsy assures him, looking down over herself as if to be sure. “I’m fine. Are you alright?”

It’s only when Betsy takes a step towards him, looking like she’s half ready to catch him that Eugene realises just how much he’s shaking. “I...”

“What do you need?” She asks softly. He can see in her face that she’s at a complete loss. She doesn’t know what’s happened, not really and she doesn’t know how to handle him like this. She doesn’t understand. He could have hurt her. Really hurt her.

“I-I gotta go,” Eugene blurts out, gathering up his things and clumsily climbing into his dungarees. “I’m so sorry, Betsy, I gotta go.”

“Eugene,” Betsy calls as he grabs at the rest of his clothes and rushes to shove them on. “Take it easy. Maybe you should...”

“I gotta get outta here,” Eugene only repeats, his shirt askew, crinkled and half undone and his shoes in his hands as he makes to leave quicker. He halts in the door again but he can’t look her in the eye again. “I’m...so sorry, Betsy.”

He leaves before another word can be said. Betsy calls for him again but he ignores it. He knows this is scary and confusing and frustrating as hell for her but that’s exactly why it’s better for him to be away from her at the moment. After what he did to Snafu, he could have done so much worse than shove her. 

Oh God. This had stopped, this had all settled down, he was doing fine! He’d never truly believe it was _only_ Snafu that had caused that change in him, that eased him. He thought maybe some of it had just eased a little over time but he was wrong, it really was all just Snafu and this is the proof.

It’s not enough anymore, he’s got to find some other way to cope. Hell, maybe these meetings with his father will actually end up becoming about finding a way to help him sleep without lashing out at anyone within close range. Snafu was his peace before but he can’t be that now. Fuck, he can’t sleep with Betsy, he can’t even fucking sleep _next_ to her. How much more of a mess can he be in?

He’s home within minutes and barging through the house to the living room where his father resides in his armchair beside the empty fireplace. His father stops looking over his book and peers up at him above his glasses. “Eugene?”

“I need...” Eugene gets ahold of himself before continuing. “I wanna do another session soon. Tomorrow?”

His father leans forward with a frown. “What happened?”

“It don’t matter,” Eugene dismisses his question. “Is tomorrow good or not?”

“I...” His father sighs. “I can do first or last thing.”

“Make it first,” Eugene confirms and then gets himself upstairs before his father can try to ask him anything. He closes his bedroom door behind him and makes straight for his drawers, crouching down and tugging open the bottom one. Inside, it still contains all of the things Snafu kept in there; shirts, his toothbrush, a pair of dungarees. He pulls out one of the crumpled shirts, used and still unwashed. When he brings it to his face and breathes in deeply, the specifically distinct scent of Snafu shouldn’t still make his heart flutter like it does but he can’t help closing his eyes and sighing against it.

This is what it’s gonna take, he thinks to himself. This is what he’s gonna have to do. He can already feel the dread filling up his chest but his mind is made up. He can’t go on as he is anymore. He's not gonna survive it this way. It's killing him and it’s not fair on Betsy. If he's gonna have any chance with her, any chance at a normal life, he's gotta get Snafu out of his head for good. He thought he could avoid this. He never wanted to allow himself to feel that way about Snafu but there's no other choice now. The aversion method isn’t working. It’s not queer men he needs to gain an aversion to, its Snafu. It’s always been Snafu.

He closes the draw and rises back to his feet, throwing the shirt over the back of his desk chair. His eyes trail over the dark wooden desk to where his pipe sits in it’s scuffed box. He feels that familiar itch again but his attention is stolen before he can act upon it. Underneath his pipe box, sits his journal. God, it’s been so long since he updated it.

He picks it up and looks over it’s cover. It almost feels like something of a stranger to him now that he has fallen out of routine with filling it. He can’t even recall when the last time he wrote in it was. He opens it up to check, turns to the last page he’d used and freezes, face falling completely blank when his eyes find what’s on it. Ever so gently, he uses the tip of his finger to pick up what he’s half convinced isn’t really there. But they are. He remembers it all clearly enough. As he lifts them up, his eyes fill to the very brim with tears he didn’t even think he had anymore.

_Two tiny flowers._ Now pressed and dried from the pages of his journal. His water filled vision trembles as his mouth does.

“Oh, Snaf,” He croaks. “Help me.”

The tears fall.


	13. Chapter 13

Eugene's throat is numb by the time he gets halfway through the second bottle of milk but he forces the rest of it down without a pause. It sits heavily in his stomach and he already feels sick. He grips the bunched up shirt tighter in his hand and heads to his father's office, knocking and entering before he's called.

After moving the projector to its usual place and pouring the correct measurement of the ipecac for Eugene, Dr Sledge hands him the cup and a large glass of water, a familiar ritual to him now. His father is dubious about all of this, Eugene can feel it coming off him in waves. 

"Eugene, why did you wanna do this again so soon?” Dr Sledge finally asks before Eugene has chance to drink the Ipecac. “After the other day, I thought we might start increasing the space between them. Did somethin’ happen?" 

Eugene shakes his head roughly, keeping his eyes straight ahead of himself and tips his head back, taking the syrup in one and forcing down the automatic gag in his throat. He always gags when he swallows this stuff now. He drinks the water a bit slower but still without pause.

"Eugene. This is going to be much more productive if you talk to me-"

"Don't got nothin' to say," Eugene snaps, fixing his father with a sharp glare. "Just play the damn slides."

His father eyes him for a moment longer, a crease of worry forming in his brow. Eugene turns his gaze fixedly onto the wall, waiting for the projections. He's certain he hears the smallest sigh but then the first image appears and he lets it go. His father doesn’t deserve his irritability but he barely slept a damn wink and everything feels like hell right now so he’s going to have to deal with it. He gets through around six images of nude men before he speaks again.

"Play the other ones." He can feel his father's eyes on him again. 

"Which ones?" Eugene fights down the fire in his chest. When he speaks again, it's through gritted teeth.

"The explicit ones." 

He can almost hear the protest, struggling to leave his father's mouth but a few seconds later, there’s another one of them small sighs and a series of clicking noises.

"Very well." 

The light on the wall snaps into the first image from this new slide and Eugene strains against the burn in his cheeks, battles the urge to look away. The first time these images were played to him, he couldn't look properly, not in front of his father. Erotic images of men performing oral sex on each other, men fucking, men touching each other. Countless examples of male sexuality and expression, some of them uncomfortably close up. 

When the spike of queasiness in his gut is strong enough that he starts to breathe shallow and groan with the discomfort, he gives up on the images and sits forward, bucket at the ready. He looks down at the shirt in his hands and forces his mind to picture him. The green eyes, the dark curls, that arrogant smirk, the soft, loving smile he saves just for him.

His mouth waters so hard, it tingles painfully through his jaw and he presses the shirt to his face, inhaling deeply a couple of times, surrounding as many senses with Snafu as he can before his stomach lurches hard and he's pulling the shirt away to heave into the bucket. 

With a stomach full of milk and water, he throws up a lot of fluid for a couple of minutes. There’s very little time to breathe during these moments and he starts to fear he’s going to pass out if it doesn’t ease soon. Already he's shaking and gasping for air during the brief pauses where his stomach muscles stop straining against his will. He can't get the shirt back to his face long enough to breathe his scent in anymore and he struggles hard not to let his mind focus on what is in front of him.

He clings onto any thoughts, any memories of Snafu he can, feeling nothing but shame for breaking the promise to himself, that he would never bring Snafu in here with him. He tells himself repeatedly that he has no choice now, this is the only way and as he heaves again he pushes even more explicit images into the forefront of his mind. 

Right behind his eyes, Snafu is inches from his face. He's smirking and saying something Eugene can't hear over the sounds of his retching and the blood rushing past his ears. He blinks hard and Snafu is kissing down his body, throwing a mischievous glance at him as he slips his hand into his trousers.

_Oh this is hell._ He imagines Snafu stroking smoke stained fingertips down his face, kissing his lips, tugging on his hair and pulling his body flush against his own. The Snafu no one else got to see. The one that only belonged to Eugene.

Eugene realises he's crying when he comes back to himself. He gasps for air as his stomach calms for a moment but it's only seconds before yet another wave hits and it hurts now. His abdominal muscles scream with the force of their straining and his chest is burning and the heat in his face makes him guess some of the capillaries in his cheeks have probably burst.

He tries to sink back into his thoughts but it hurts too much, the pain is grounding him where he is and he struggles with himself. It can't, he's doing this for a reason. He's gotta get his mind back down there. Snafu's face comes into his vision but it fades and he's staring through tear blurred eyes, at the whitish liquid swirling around the bucket. He lets out a hard frustrated grunt which breaks into another retch but it does nothing to help get his mind back where he needs it.

"By Christ, Eugene,” A voice speaks. It's his father's, he recognises distantly and it's almost humorous, how he must look, quivering on that damn sofa, all but fighting with himself while he does this again. He feels his weight dip on one side and his father is next to him. "This is the last time you do this, it’s gone too far."

"No!" Eugene chokes out when his stomach eases again. "You don’t understand, this has to work, it _has_ to."

“No, Eugene.” He hears a small sob that is not his own and he feels a hand rest on his back. "I can't stand to see you like this. No more."

Eugene panics, mind delirious. "Papa, please," His already cracked voice breaks and he gives into his sobs. "Don't give up on me. You can't.”

He doesn't hear if his father responds because he's heaving again, not bringing much up but bile now. The hand on his back starts to rub gentle circles of comfort and he can't help but lean into it.

They stay like this for a while, even after Eugene stops vomiting, the bucket sitting half forgotten at their feet. Eugene is leaning into his father's shoulder as his father holds him and strokes his hair. He aches all over and his throat is raw from all the strain but his mind is numb, exhausted. He has no idea how much later it is when his father helps him up to his bedroom but he drops onto his bed, rolls over and is out within seconds.

...

His father tries to talk to him multiple times over the following few days, wanting answers, explanations, some kind of clarity but Eugene doesn’t have it in him to explain. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s done. He feels so fucking numb he can barely stand it anymore.

He doesn't leave the house at all over these few days. His father tells his mother that he's unwell, a simple stomach bug. Eugene tells Betsy the same thing. He spends a lot of time in his bedroom, in his bed, at his desk or just pacing. At night, after everyone has settled down for the night, he's taken to sneaking out onto his canopy and indulging in his pipe again, that and the fresh air being the only things that exist to him now. 

His brother comes to dinner a couple of days later. Eugene is certain this is entirely his father’s doing. He’s even more certain when his brother joins him once he’s alone.

“He asked you to come, didn’t he,” Eugene sighs, picking his glass up from the step he’s sitting on in their back yard and taking a gulp of the drink he doesn’t even really want. He can barely taste anymore.

Edward pauses and Eugene wonders if he’s contemplating denying it but seems to make a decision when he takes the spot on the step next to him. “He seems pretty worried about you.”

“He don’t gotta be worryin’ about me.” His brother considers him carefully for a moment.

“Our old man has worked with countless men who been through what we been through. He knows about all of this stuff. You’re right, he don’t gotta worry about you.”

Eugene doesn’t look at him. He’s not sure where his brother is going with this. He’s not even really interested but it seems easier to let his brother say his piece than to try and make him leave him alone. That would only lead to resistance and a stronger certainty to Edward that something is wrong.

“So,” Edward continues. “If he is worried, there’s gotta be somethin’ behind it.”

Eugene shakes his head and just about denies the urge to roll his eyes. As always his brother is just one step further than Eugene expects him to be.

“He tells me you an’ Betsy are a thing now,” Edward says, perhaps trying for a different angle, hoping to reach Eugene with something.

“Yeah,” Eugene nods. Humours him.

“An’ does that mean my little brother has finally discovered the fruits of his loins?”

“Christ,” Eugene snorts and rubs his hand over his face, half daring himself to answer him.

“That’s a yes.” He feels Edward nudge his upper arm with a little impressed sound and it makes his face feel warm despite himself. “So, how was it?”

“Yeah y’know,” Eugene shrugs. “It was good.”

“Good?” Edwards balks. “Eugene, I know you ain’t talkin’ about the same thing as me, if the only thing you got to say is ‘good’.”

Eugene looks away and whatever expression is on his face, it’s enough to make Edward sober up. “What is it?”

Eugene sighs again. Part of him wants to be able to talk about it, but it’s not like he can tell his brother the truth. Not the whole truth anyway. “I dunno. My mind’s just elsewhere a lot.”

“What, even when you...y’know?”

Eugene nods.

“You sly dog,” his brother suddenly says and this time Eugene does look at him. “You _did_ meet someone else.”

Eugene’s heart skips a beat.

“You said there were no women where you were. When was it, boot Camp? Somewhere along the way?”

Eugene doesn’t respond. His mind is whirring. Shit. Shit.

“Well have you seen her since you got home?”

“Couple times,” Eugene mumbles. This is getting too close, dangerously close.

“Them long walks over the creek, papa was tellin’ me you go on. You weren’t just walkin’ out over there, were ya?”

Eugene doesn’t speak. There is no way in hell he can put any kind of an answer to that. 

“So then why ain’t you brought _her_ home to meet the family instead?”

“Cause we ain’t a thing,” Eugene says sharply. He’s shaking a little bit, speaking too much and for the love of god, why can’t he just shut his damn mouth? “We can’t.”

“Oh shit,” Edward says as though realising something. “She already got a fella?”

Eugene averts his gaze again and knows its answer enough. It’s probably better he thinks that anyway.

“Damn, Gene, that’s rough,”

“Is what it is,” Eugene says bitterly. “Parents wouldn’t’ve ever approved anyway.”

“Oh?” Edward smiles. “A little too much for them to handle?”

Eugene doesn’t smile. Edward nudges him again.

“Well I dunno if they would’a or not an’ maybe it don’t change anythin’ for ya here but I reckon there’s more important things than whether mama an’ papa approve or not. Like if she makes ya happy.”

Eugene glances back up to his brother who’s watching him carefully. His face is soft, serious. Edward thinks he’s talking about some broad and somehow...the conversation is actually comprehensive. Eugene _is_ talking about it with him...in a way.

“Look, I grew up with Betsy too, she’s one of the nicest dames I know but if she ain’t right...”

He stops speaking for a bit. Eugene can’t decide if he’s glad or not. Under normal circumstances, he’d agree with his brother completely. But it’s been more than clear to him for long enough now that these aren’t normal circumstances. He appreciates his brothers words. He really does. It’s comforting to at least know he’s behind in in this regard, even with half the story hidden. His opinion would be wildly different if he knew the truth here.

“This other broad,” Edward says at length and this time, it’s his turn not to look at him properly when he speaks. “Do you love her?”

Oh. Eugene can always trust his brother to be able to throw a wrench right into the engine. The one thing that makes these circumstances the most complicated of all.

“I...” does he say it? Is it too far to admit it to his brother? “Yeah. Yeah I think I do.”

Edward nods as though considering his words. “And she feels the same?”

“Yeah.”

His brother stands up and pats his shoulder briefly.

“Then I think maybe your heart has already solved the problem.”

He leaves Eugene to his thoughts. 

Oh if only it were that simple, Eugene thinks.

...

Later that night, Eugene paces around his bedroom without pause. He’s been agonisingly restless since his brother came and talked with him and when it gets too much, he decides enough is enough. He can’t take it in here anymore. Trapped like a damn animal. Eugene quickly slicks his hair in its neat style, grabs his jacket and heads downstairs.

"Eugene?" It's his father that calls him before he reaches the front door. He closes his eyes and curses silently.

"I'm goin' out." Eugene answers flatly, before his father can even ask. He opens the front door.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea." Dr Sledge says gently. "Come and sit with us, you're mother and I-"

"I can't be here right now." Eugene walks out, dragging the door shut with him. It slams louder than he intends it to but he picks his direction and doesn't stop until his feet find him at the town bar. Fuck it, he thinks.

It’s not too rowdy inside, a few people dotted around, a couple of groups laughing to themselves and talking carelessly. Eugene envy’s them. He asks the barman to start him a tab and get him whatever beer is on tap. He sips at the ale slowly, taking it easy on his still sensitive stomach. It’s deep and bitter and makes him scrunch his nose a bit but he keeps at it anyway. It’s also thick, almost creamy and the cold feels good on his raw throat. His father has been making him gargle with this medicated mouth rinse, telling him it will help protect the enamel on his teeth from the damage the vomiting causes. It’s strong stuff that burns his throat and he hates it but he does like his father tells him. That’s all his life is now, doing what other people tell him to do, doing things he _should_ do. 

He sinks into himself for a little while, let’s his mind float off into a numbness he’s far too used to now. It’s become his safe place because right now, feeling nothing is more bearable than the constant nagging emotions he’s plagued with. The heavy guilt for Betsy, the sickening dread before every meeting with his father, the fear and terror every time he wakes from another night terror. There is no room in his world to feel anything positive and so for now, numb is the best he can manage and tonight, everything is just distant mumblings and the mild burn of the alcohol in his stomach as it warms him slowly. He slouches a little on his stool and his eyelids droop sleepily while he stares into his pint.

“Hey, whoa there, buddy. Y’ain’t paid ya tab!”

The voice of the bartender is enough to rouse Eugene from his thoughts and send multiple heads turning to see where it’s aimed at, Eugene’s also being one of them but it’s only _his_ head that remains frozen in place upon laying eyes on the ‘buddy’ in question. All Eugene can do is stare at him impossibly as he shuffles on his feet and mouths something that looks like a curse to himself before resigning to the situation and stepping back up towards the bar.

This isn’t happening. Coincidences happen. Anomalies happen. Tectonic plates move. The earth shifts and quakes. Volcanoes erupt. Wars start and end. All these events happen at specific times and dramatically change the course of the universe in some way. But this. This is insane. It’s too much. Right now, at this precise moment, after everything he’s been through. God himself couldn’t pull this shit on him. _This isn’t happening._

"Sledgehamma'." 

Except that it is happening. The evidence of it just rang around in his ears like the echo of a damn gunshot. 

"Snaf." Eugene’s breathless voice is half lost in the rowdy noise of the bar continuing on with their evening, completely unaware of the monumental event taking place right before them. Have they no idea? Eugene thinks incredulously. “The hell you doin’ here?”

"Could ask you the same thing, Sledgehamma'." Snafu's speaks, attempting his usual casualness but his voice is not the same, Eugene can't place what it is but it's like there's no emphasis in his words. He's already been drinking for a while though, Eugene can hear that for sure. "I-I can go. That’s what I was tryin’...once I saw it was you, didn’t want ya to have to..."

Eugene's looks over Snafu's exhausted face as he trails off. His eyes are dull, red and bloodshot, outlined thickly by dark circles and heavy bags. When their eyes meet, Eugene searches for that dangerous spark, that slight wildness that both excited him and scared him a little before, he can’t find a single trace of it now. He should let Snafu go. This isn’t going to do any good for either of them. He can’t bring himself to do that though, even just to have the few extra seconds of getting to look at him is worth the hurt he’s going to feel later. Eugene shakes his head and waves off his words. “S’alright.”

Snafu pulls up a stool next to Eugene and pauses, looking to him for any sign of protest before taking the seat. He orders another pint.

Eugene has seen Snafu in all kinds of states during their time in the war and afterwards. He’s seen him fresh and clean and laying in the sun. He’s seen him bunked down in mud and sludge, seen him covered in the gore of dead Japs. He’s seen him in some of the darkest conditions a man could have to face. Yet here, standing before him, there’s only one thing that comes to Eugene’s mind. _He looks downright dreadful._

His clothes are a few loose threads away from complete tatters. His hair, which Eugene is half certain hasn’t been cut since he last saw him, clings weakly to his scalp in an array of lifeless curls. He looks thin, gaunt, almost skeletal. Starved on minuscule portions of maggoty rice, almost no sleep, the constant strain of battle and the expectation of death and he never looked as weak and haggard as he does now. It’s just devastating.

The barman racks up Snafu’s tab and hands him his bill and Eugene watches as he pulls out a slim hand of notes to cover it.

“Still gettin’ work around here?” Eugene asks, nodding towards the money. Snafu shrugs.

"When there's anyone that needs anythin' doin', yeah." Snafu sits up straighter and angles his body towards Eugene a little more. "Some guy mentioned some gig, fixin' air conditionin'. It ain't flash but its work. And it's in Beaumont, so it's a little way out..." Snafu trails off and looks down into his beer. Eugene studies him.

"Then what're you still doin' here, Snaf?" Eugene squints, shaking his head. 

Snafu looks at him, sighs and averts his eyes again. His scuffed fingers play with the rim of his glass, mindlessly.

"Just...bidin' my time. I guess I thought..." Snafu pulls back as though he was about to speak out of turn and shakes his head. “Don’t matter. I’ll be leaven’ here soon.” This time, Eugene believes him when he says it. Maybe it’s in the way he says it, his voice. There’s no hint of false tone in there. His tone is bitter, maybe digging but otherwise sounds empty. Lifeless.

“Might wanna get yourself a couple meals before you do,” Eugene tells him. The tension in the air around them doesn’t surprise him, not after last time they spoke but he knows he shouldn’t be rising to meet it. He takes a long sip of his beer and speaks anyway. “Cause I doubt you could lift two bricks with them chicken wings you got hangin’ at your sides.”

“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like some impish little choir boy with that hair,” Snafu snaps. “Thought you were a little old to have your mama doin’ your hair for ya.”

Eugene glares at him and Snafu looks back with the same amount of fire. They’re both able to hold it for no more than a couple of seconds before they break with a chuff.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Eugene murmurs but he’s smiling this time. Snafu is smiling back, it’s weak as hell but it’s there, he even spots the mildest hint of life return to his eyes for a moment and in an instant it all feels too familiar, too natural and comfortable, _too right._ Eugene’s smile fades.

"I met someone." The words come out before he can even think to stop them. Eugene curses himself inwardly for being so blunt, so cruel. That small light, the weak ember that had begun to glow in Snafu’s eyes is gone before it even had a chance. Snafu freezes and drops his gaze to his own pint. Watching him, Eugene even imagines he can hear Snafu swallow. He doesn’t speak. Eugene bounces his leg against his stool and bows his head. "Betsy." He goes on uneasily, he may as well now it’s too late to take it back. "That girl we saw at Sid's wedding?"

"Oh." Snafu sniffs and it's that strange, small voice that Eugene decides he doesn't like. It doesn't fit him at all. "I was pretty drunk that night."

Snafu was sober when he got to the venue, when he met Betsy but he doesn't press it. He's not even sure what made him say it. As if hurting Snafu had been the intention. It wasn't. He just couldn’t allow Snafu the chance to dare to hope, not after everything Eugene has been through now.

He’s not sure how much time goes by before Snafu moves again but when he finally does, it’s to call over the bartender to order two more pints.

“Just one,” Eugene cuts in but Snafu dismisses it. “I didn’t want another.”

“Forgot you were such a weak drinker.” Snafu mutters darkly, taking one pint and slamming it down in front of Eugene. “Maybe that little boys haircut was right for you after all.” 

Eugene glares at him hard, takes up the pint into hand and knocks back a deep gulp as if to make a point of it. Snafu only huffs and clacks his tongue against his teeth before gulping down half his own.

They drink each other into the night, Snafu with his immeasurable head-start is swaying on his stool before long. When they talk, it almost feels like they’re trying to be annoyed with each other but neither of them can truly commit to it, as if they’ve both decided it would be easier if this didn’t go well. They give up quickly when it fails and even manage to drift into a more casual relaxed chatter. Whenever the conversation heads in any direction regarding what they’ve been doing in these last few weeks, Eugene is all too eager to drag the talk to something else and Snafu seems just as happy to let him. This gets him wondering what Snafu has been getting up to but to ask would mean having to spill on his own activities and that’s not something he’s willing to do. Snafu doesn’t need to know the lengths Eugene went to to try and erase his feelings for him.

Erase his feelings for him.

After everything he’s endured, all them fucking sessions with his father. He started to believe it was working, that maybe he was getting somewhere with it. Then all it took was one glance, just one split second to realise that Snafu is still here, in this bar right at the same time as he is and Eugene felt his own heart burst from his chest.

As the night wears on, they become sillier and more giggly until Snafu almost falls off his stool and leaves Eugene bending forward in a fit of laughter. When Snafu recovers, he returns to sitting and Eugene finds his face considerably closer to Snafu’s from where he’d leant forward automatically. There’s a weak but evident grin etched across Snafu’s face but as he meets his gaze, the laughter stops. Eugene realises he’s been staring at Snafu’s lips for more than long enough and when he pulls his eyes up to meet Snafu’s, it’s to see that Snafu has been watching him and will have certainly noticed. As if to somehow confirm it, Snafu’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and it’s enough to snap Eugene back to the world and pull back with a short clear of his throat. Snafu doesn’t say anything.

It's only them and a couple of other guys left in the bar when the barman shuts the place down for the night. Snafu staggers into Eugene as they turn the corner, walking straight down the middle of the road. Eugene brings a hand up against his back to steady him just as Snaf grabs Eugene's arm with the same purpose and they both burst into laughter. 

“Come on,” Eugene chuckles. “I’ll walk back with ya.”

“What, scared some early bird gonna come strollin’ along in the mornin’ to find me passed out in the bushes?” Snafu asks with less humour in his voice that Eugene would have expected. Snafu shakes his head. “Go your own way, I can handle myself.”

“Look, let me, for my own peace of mind.”

“I said I can handle it.”

Eugene frowns. Why is Snafu pushing for Eugene not to walk with him?

"Wait...You're not sleepin' out in that damn field again are you?" Eugene's smile fades as he sobers up. Snafu doesn't answer and Eugene slows his steps, pulling at Snafu's arm to get him to look at him. "Tell me, you ain't stayin' in that fuckin' field." The almost guilty look Snafu gives him is all the answer he needs. He holds Snafu's gaze for a moment while he processes that. “No way am I lettin’ you sleep out over there.”

“Y’ain’t given two bits about it any other night of these last weeks, what difference does it make where I stay tonight?”

Eugene gapes at him. No way has he been sleeping outside? Every night since he left? Since Eugene sent him away like a kicked dog and told him never to come back? No way, he can’t have. _All this time?_

“God, if you can think that I stopped thinkin’ about you for even a damn second, then-”

Snafu grabs his arm before he can finish speaking and then he’s dragging him out of the road and down between two closed shops. Eugene doesn’t have a second to protest or get his wits about him before Snafu is shoving him hard against the wall around the back of one of the shops and crashing his mouth violently against his own.

Their lips part and Eugene feels Snafu’s tongue trying to lick its way into his mouth, teeth nipping sharply at his lips in between attempts, demanding more than requesting. He opens up and Snafu's tongue invades immediately. He tastes just as Eugene remembers and he sighs at the familiarity. Snafu answers with a soft moan that brings Eugene to himself enough to bring one hand round to grip into Snafu's hair and drag his head away to get enough room to speak.

"Snaf." He gasps. "Snaf, we can't...I can't. Betsy-"

His mouth is covered again and god he should have more resolve than to give in as easy as this. Snafu is completely ignoring the hand tugging his hair, which must hurt at least a bit. Eugene feels half scared to be too rough with him as he is now. Skin clinging to sharp bones and what muscle he does still have almost seem to shake with the exhaustion of simply holding himself up. Handle him too hard and he might just crumble beneath his grip. Eugene relents the grasp of Snafu’s hair but leaves his hand tangled in the limp unruly curls, massaging his fingers in small circles as some form of apology. Snafu sighs again and his hands drop to Eugene's waist to pull their hips together. Eugene can’t even remember when he got hard, he could have very well been hard since they were back in the damn bar. All he knows is that Snafu is hard too and now he’s clumsily rutting himself against him and it’s catching him just sweetly and _oh god he’s missed this so fucking much._

The hands at Eugene's waist drop to fumble his trousers open enough to slip one inside and take hold of him. He sighs against Snafu's mouth and then moves to kiss at the skin between his neck and shoulder. Snafu hums and Eugene takes a moment to breathe him in, just drowning his senses and feeling how easily it lights him up inside. He’s massaging the head of Eugene’s cock with his thumb, pausing occasionally to give him a few rough strokes in between.

Snafu has Eugene pinned to the wall, panting and moaning, helpless against his efforts. He scrapes his teeth against Eugene's neck and licks back over the same patch.

"Was it like this?" Snafu breathes, circling his thumb at the head of his cock.

"Huh?" Eugene has to focus just to take in what Snafu is saying.

"Was _she_ like this?" Snafu elaborates and Eugene clicks. "Did she do this for you?" Snafu bites him again, much harder and licks a long hot stripe from his neck to his ear. "Could she make you feel like this?"

Eugene feels his face get even hotter. Snafu's nips at his ears.

"I-I couldn't-" Eugene stutters, feeling ashamed to admit it. "The whole time we-it was you, I imagined it was you. It had to be you, Snaf."

Snafu moans and removes his hand from Eugene's cock in favour of pressing his own back against him and grinding against him desperately.

"Fuck, Gene," Snafu breathes and Eugene can hear the smile in his voice. "What did you imagine, huh? What did I do for you?"

"Snaf, no." Eugene pants. That doesn't feel right, he can’t go there. Crossing over two parts of his life that cannot, should not coexist. It’s too much. "Don't talk like that."

"If you tell me what you imagined." Snafu's lips are hot against his ear. "I can do it for real. I can make you forget her, Cher...”

"Fuck, Snaf, no!" Eugene shoves him away roughly. "Don't-I can't, we can't do this. Betsy don't deserve that."

Eugene trails off the moment he gets a look at Snafu's face. He had expected Snafu to bite back, protect himself with snipes and quips of defence as is his usual tactic but there’s no sign of that. Snafu falls silent and looks away. Never in his life had he ever seen him look quite like that. Eugene feels like he can see everything these last weeks have been for Snafu in that one look and he realises then and there; Snafu was never trying to be sexy with his words, he just needed to know that he is still as important as Eugene is to him. He needed to know that the time apart had been as hard on Eugene as it had for him. _Oh if only he knew._

Eugene recalls the moment his news about Betsy first slipped from his mouth and the way Snafu had froze, the way his shoulders had slumped just that extra bit, the way his next words came out soft and lost. And now, Eugene can see it again, only now he can really see it. In his eyes, his one final chance to have Eugene again just slipped through his fingers and now there’s nothing left. He looks so finished. He looks so fucking _broken._

And it's in that moment, looking deep into the hopeless, drained eyes, that everything that has happened to Eugene over these weeks, everything he has done, everything he has been through and seeing Snafu here, tonight, just as fucked up, is just the final push and he breaks right along with him.

"God help us both." Eugene whispers, to himself or to Snafu he doesn't know but it doesn't matter because he's pulling Snafu against him so hard, it knocks the wind out of them both. Eugene feels Snafu’s hands slide up against his back and cling to him so tightly and this time it’s Eugene trying to work Snafu’s mouth open. He’s just desperate to wipe that look off his face as fast as possible. He never wants to see him look like that again.

Snafu isn’t responding against him, he’s frozen, just clinging to him and when Eugene stills, he can feel he’s shaking too.

“I’m sorry. Snaf please, I’m sorry.” Eugene breathes the words against his lips, scared he’s gone too far and royally fucked it this time but after a few seconds, Snafu starts to move with him again, opens his mouth so Eugene can invade and swallows his tongue.

Snafu licks Eugene’s lips and hurriedly rips open his dungarees, shoving them down his hips along with Eugene’s to press their cocks together.

“Gene,” Snafu growls into Eugene's ear in response to the friction. "I ain't got nothin' to make it any easier." He groans. Eugene fumbles around in his pocket and pulls out his tin of hair grease and presses it into Snafu's palm. Snafu holds it up, making Eugene lean back a bit to get a look at his face. "Seriously?"

"What?" 

"S’plains ya hair." Snafu looks up at the neatly done style and lifts his hand. "I really just wanna-" He combs his fingers through Eugene's hair, knocking it out of place. "Better." 

Eugene sighs. At least Snafu is responding more normally to him again now. He manoeuvres Snafu so that it's him who's against the wall. He makes him open up the tin of grease and hold it still so he can dip his fingers in and get them slick.

"Not too much." Snafu slurs. "Fuckin' nightmare to clean off."

Eugene uses his clean hand to shove Snafu's dungarees down further so that he can get his hand between his legs without covering his clothes in grease. Snafu spreads his feet apart as much as he can to accommodate him. Eugene slides his fingers up and around his entrance and presses one in slowly.

"Two." Snafu demands and Eugene's eyes flick up to meet his briefly before he obliges, pulling the finger out and pressing two back in. Snafu hisses but says nothing. The angle is a little awkward and Eugene can't make Snafu enjoy it this way, but he can get the preparation done and Snafu doesn't seem to care at all.

"Alright, that’s good,” Snafu says much too soon and Eugene ignores him, choosing instead to thrust the two fingers harder in an attempt to distract him better. "Gene, come on."

"Ain't here to hurt ya." Eugene grunts. “It’s been a while.”

"Fuck, Gene. I can take it, just fuckin' do it." 

Eugene knows it's too soon but Snafu is being an impatient fucker, so he does what he's told. He pulls his hand away and quickly wipes the excess grease onto the back of his dungarees. Not his best idea but he makes a mental note to put them to wash after this. He flips Snafu around and presses him into the wall. Snafu's fingers splay out against the brick and he lets Eugene pull at his hips so he's bending slightly, tilting his hips up to him. Eugene slicks up his cock with more of the grease, discarding the small tin onto the floor. He lines himself up with Snafu and presses his hands into his hips, the only warning before he’s easing himself inside an a long, slow thrust. He bites Snafu's shoulder to distract him from some of the pain but he can feel in the way Snafu holds his breath that it obviously hurts, even if he's doing his best to hide that and Eugene isn't gonna bring attention to it now. 

He takes it slow but that just seems to irritate Snafu more and he swears and reaches back, takes a good grasp for his hips and yanks Eugene against him until he is in to the hilt. Eugene moans and despite a harsh urge to start moving fast and hard, he has to force himself to pause so Snafu can adjust. He can hear the impatience in his breath but just as he sees Snafu open his mouth, no doubt to call back to him to tell him to get a move on, Eugene gives into the temptation, pulls out and thrusts back in and any words that might have been about to leave Snafu's mouth die out in favour of a stunted groan.

Eugene sets a steady pace, one hand digging into Snafu's hip, the other splayed on his back, smoothing up and to the side, feeling his ribs through his shirt. He distantly wonders if he has been eating properly but then Snafu is reaching back to stop him and he comes back to himself, worried he’s doing something wrong. Snafu pushes Eugene away so that he slips out, straightens up and turns around to face Eugene, shoving his trousers down and off his feet, kicking his shoes with them.

"Wanna look at'cha." Snafu mumbles, pulling Eugene close to him again. 

“Shit, Snaf, I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to hold like that for long,” Eugene worries his bottom lip.

“Oh this won’t take long,” Snafu promises and looks up to a small window ledge just above his head, bringing one arm up and hooking his fingers onto it. Eugene gets the idea and he hoists Snafu's thighs up to his waist, feeling slim thighs cling around him tightly, keeping his other hand against the wall to make it a little easier for Eugene to support his weight. Snafu wobbles unsteadily.

"I gotcha." Eugene says, pressing closer so that Snafu is pinned between him and the building. He reaches underneath himself awkwardly and aims his cock back to Snafu's entrance, humping up until he's inside him once again, bending Snafu even further and crushing him into the wall. "Better?"

Snafu snarls but Eugene heard the hitch in his breath just before, giving him all the answer he needs. He sets up a new pace, keeping an arm under one of Snafu's thighs and the other against his lower back. Snafu's legs slip down his hips a little bit and he hitches them further up his back, encouraging him to cling even tighter to him. The angle changes slightly and Snafu spasms when Eugene catches him just right. God, Eugene wants to run his hands all along his smooth, damp skin, wants to just touch him, feel him and hold him but his hands can only uphold their purchase where they are or Snafu will fall. He takes every opportunity to kiss him instead, slide their lips together, lick at his tongue, bite his chin and just taste as much of him as he can reach. He wants Snafu everywhere, wants his senses flooded with nothing else. He’d almost forgotten just how good this can feel when it’s with the right person and it only secures in his mind just how wrong Betsy is for him.

"Fuck, Gene," Snafu gasps. The hand on the wall reaches forward to claw at Eugene's shoulder and he loses all other trail of thought. Pulling him even closer, he presses his lips back to Snafu's, who parts his immediately to let him in. Eugene licks into his mouth and breathes in his exhales and he's moaning and Snafu is too. Snafu feels this just as much as he does, needs this just as desperately. How could he have ever allowed them to part like he did, send him away as though it could ever have been enough to make him forget.

"Snaf...Snaf." Eugene babbles against his lips, emotion welling up in his chest so hard and fast, it’s taking his breath.

"No." Snafu gasps. "No."

Eugene doesn’t understand.

"My name, mon Cher." Snafu begs. "Say my _name."_

Eugene swallows as he realises. He risks it and his hand leaves its place under Snafu's thigh to stroke down his face, sliding down sweat streaked skin. He leans forward and kisses him again.

"Mer." He pants against his lips. "Merriell."

"Yeah." Snafu moans, pulling the hand on the wall away to hold the side of Eugene’s face in a mirroring movement. He becomes a fraction heavier on Eugene’s hips but it doesn’t matter anymore, they’re not going to last much longer, Eugene can feel it. They needed this too much. "I'm here, Gene."

"I'm sorry." Eugene's voice cracks and it sounds weak and shaky but he forces the words out. "I'm so sorry I made you leave."

"Oh, Gene." Snafu's hand tucks itself around the back of Eugene's neck. "I didn't listen, did I? I'm still fuckin' here."

"Don't ever listen to me." Tears mix with the sweat on his face and it makes his eyes sting. He knows Snafu can see. His voice is shaking beyond the exertion, Snafu doesn’t _need_ to see. "Don't you ever fuckin' leave me. Promise me."

"Ain't goin' anywhere, Cher. I promise, I ain't ever gonna leave ya." Snafu's voice breaks too and Eugene presses their foreheads together.

"I love you, Mer. I can’t stop. Somethin’ that’s wrong wouldn’t feel this right." It's too much and the tears spill properly, but he keeps moving and Snafu doesn't ask him to stop, just clings harder, pulls him closer and turns to drag his lips over his temple. Eugene tilts his head down and presses against his touch.

"I never stopped either, Gene, not for a moment." Snafu moans again when Eugene thrusts right and he encourages him gently, as though to remind him of what they are doing despite the emotional outpour. "Come on, Gene. Come on." Snafu lets go of the window ledge and takes Eugene's face into both his hands, holding his head steady to look into his eyes. "Eyes on me, Cher. Keep 'em right here, right on me."

Eugene does. He holds Snafu's gaze and they pant together and now he’s certain Snafu can see the tears in his eyes. He drags his free hand down to wrap around Snafu's cock since Snafu appears to have no interest in letting go of his face long enough to work himself. He’s not even sure if Snafu could give a shit about chasing his release right now, his mind is in one place only. They're pressed together so tightly that Eugene can only reach the head but he massages his thumb where Snafu is the most sensitive. Snafu moans out hard but he refuses to tear his eyes away from Eugene’s.

"That's it, Gene, right there." Snafu tightens his legs and lets one hand slip down to his shoulder, gripping him almost painfully to keep himself in place as they inch towards the edge. "Don't you stop fucking lookin' at me, Cher."

Eugene thrusts more desperately than he ever has before, he's not even sure he's angling correctly anymore but Snafu is not saying otherwise. The fingers on his shoulder are digging in so hard, he's certain they've broken the skin. He hopes to hell they have.

They tremble together in the final moments, every muscle straining to hold their position but their minds so in line with each other that everything else has ceased to exist. Just them. Together. Always together. Then Snafu’s whispered endearments dissolve into a hard whine as he comes undone and it sends Eugene tumbling with him, his hips stilling forcefully against Snafu and spilling deep inside of him.

Their chests heave while they hold each other. Eugene is shaking with the strain of holding this position now but he's not willing to let the moment end yet. He never wants it to end. Snafu is kissing his soaked face, thighs quivering around his sides and god, if he could hold like this forever, he would.

Snafu wriggles before he can try to secure any deal with God to allow his wish and Eugene is forced to let him slide his feet down to the floor so he can stand. He’s happy though, when Snafu continues holding onto him for a while longer so they can kiss, deep and slow and long but the world is coming back to them now, realisation surrounding them like thick suffocating smoke. Snafu strokes his fingers through Eugene's hair but the damp stops it from holding any of its original form and it flops back down just above his eyes.

"You gotta-" Eugene interrupts Snafu with another kiss, just to have them few extra seconds before responsibility takes over their actions and he has to start feeling terrible about this whole thing.

And boy, he knows he's going to feel terrible. But he also can't bring himself to regret it for a single moment. 

"Gene." Snafu laughs and it's so light that it's barely even there. "I know. I know, Cher. But you gotta go home."

His words are like a weight in Eugene's chest and he hangs his head, not unlike that of a disappointed child, minus the fact that this is beyond anything either of them likely ever had to face in their youth. "Yeah, I know."

"Come on, Sledgehamma, I'll walk with ya some of the way."

They sort out their clothes, straighten themselves up as best they can. Eugene can't seem to keep his gaze from the floor but when he feels gentle fingertips against his arm, he turns and follows without a word. They soon reach the turn between Eugene's house and the trail that leads to the field.

"You really can't be sleepin' over there, Snaf." Eugene protests again, in more hushed tones now.

"I'm good, Gene. You've seen how nice it is over there."

But Eugene can't accept it and so he makes his request, to which Snafu tries to dismiss but Eugene is adamant and with a sigh, Snafu nods his agreement. 

Eugene quietly lets himself back into his home. His parents have at least settled down for the night, whether they're asleep or not, he doesn't know but he remains cautious, quietly padding up to his room and closing himself in. The familiarity of this caution, this sneaking, it unnerves him but he presses forward regardless. 

He pauses at the window, licks his dry lips and then gently opens it. Snafu's face comes into his sight, just like so many times before, except that now the quirk of his lips is an insult to the arrogant, self assured grin that he used to greet Eugene with. 

They don't speak a word as Snafu climbs into his room. They don't say anything when Eugene starts to undress Snafu automatically. He's not even sure why he is, or why Snafu is letting him. It feels old and from a time long ago but it’s also familiar and filled with promises of hope and possibility. Hell, maybe both have them have just gone over the edge of sanity at this point. Either way he strips him down to his underwear and pushes him towards the bed. He does the same to himself and follows. 

Eugene lays himself down next to Snafu, even turns to face him but then he waits, as if he needs some kind of invitation to touch him now, even after what they've just done. Snafu seems to understand what's going through his head and he makes the first move, bringing one hand up to tentatively run his finger tips along Eugene's shoulder, tracing along his collar bone, to his throat and settling his hand in the crook of his neck, fingers sitting behind his ear and thumb stroking the edge of his jaw. Eugene leans into the touch and closes his eyes. 

He feels Snafu shift closer, feels their hips come into contact and then the most delicate brush of lips against his own, the hand guiding his head to move with him. Eugene kisses him back and it's close and perfect. It's every word that he wants to say to him but doesn't even know how to voice anymore. It’s every wish he has that the past could have gone differently, that the future can be in their own control. Snafu's arms slide around to his back and pull him as close as they can and Eugene clings onto him like he's the only conscious thought he can hold onto. He holds him like he's gonna wake from his drunken stupor and find that he was never even here, that Snafu was just some cruel trick of his mind, just in case he ever thought for a second that he wasn't actually insane.

And he's scared to open his eyes when the lips leave his. But his body is still pressed against him, excessively warm skin is still under his fingers and he dares to open his eyes. The eyes that greet him are the same wide, perfect eyes that he fell in love with. It's hard to believe it’s been mere months since this whole thing started. Well, this whole _physical_ thing. Before that? Everything he recalled to his father during those sessions, under hypnosis. How long had these feelings been festering inside him? And had he just been in denial the whole time or had he just not realised? And Snafu too? He's not sure he even wants to know, not truly.

"Come back to me, Gene." Snafu speaks so softly, Eugene feels it more than hears it. 

"The fuck are we gonna do, Snaf?" Eugene's fingers slide into Snafu's soft hair, just gently massaging his scalp. Snafu relaxes his head under the touch with a groan. He doesn't reply but his fingers are playing absently along his skin again, neither of them able to let go of the other. Eugene shifts in closer and situates himself comfortable against Snafu, pressing his face into his neck. He can hear Snafu's throat working occasionally, can feel it against the bridge of his nose.

“You ever find out what that bird was?” He hears Snafu mumble drowsily. Eugene smirks as he recalls the sunny afternoon over the field, one of the happiest moments of his life. He almost wishes he’d known at the time so he could have savoured it more in the moment.

“A tufted titmouse,” Eugene tells him.

“Huh,” is all he hears back and Snafu settles against him even more.

The next time he's aware of anything, Eugene feels movement around him, hears material being disrupted. His eyes open to Snafu hushing him, while he tries to climb over him and off the bed. 

"Snaf?" Eugene slurs out sleepily. He lifts his head a little and groans, it feels like lead, the weight of the previous nights alcohol intake is not going to be kind on him today.

"Go back to sleep, Gene." Snafu whispers, tugging his dungarees back onto his legs. Eugene sits up.

“Snaf wait.”

Snafu turns back to him and leans forward close. Hell, if Eugene doesn’t want to drag him back into the bed with him this second. After being apart like they have, the thought of him being out of his sight is just terrifying.

“We can’t talk here,” Snafu more mouths to him than anything. “Go back to sleep. Meet me by our place at the creek later.”

Snafu goes to move away but seems to change his mind and presses back foward to kiss him yet again. Eugene’s heart swells. Snafu can’t get enough of it either, he doesn’t want to leave. But he’s right, it’s safer this way. 

They part and then Snafu is climbing out of the window, a sight Eugene has seen many times before now but has never wanted him to turn around and climb back through as much as he does now.

There’s no way in hell he’s getting back to sleep.

......

Snafu is already at the creek when Eugene gets there after breakfast. He wonders if Snafu has eaten anything today and feels suddenly dreadful for being too distracted to think of bringing something.

“No trouble gettin’ away from ya ol’ man?”

Eugene shakes his head. Snafu approaches him and moves to stroke his cheek but it all feels too secret now, as if somehow it didn’t before, it feels dishonest to be meeting him like this. It’s not that he doesn’t long for the feel of Snafu’s fingers brushing against his skin, by Christ he wants that more than anything. The moments hesitation is all it takes for Snafu to read it in some way to mean a rejection, even if a small one and he steps back, letting his hand fall back to the side.

“This is where you tell me last night was a mistake,” Snafu says. His voice is cold but not aimed at Eugene like a snipe, more like stating something he perhaps believed would come to be true all along, the tone scolding himself for daring to believe this was going to work in his favour.

“We can’t just go back to what we were doin’, Snaf, Eugene says with a weak shrug. “We’d be insane to think that could be enough now. Things are different.”

“You mean you got yourself a girl...” This time Snafu is very much bitter. He points towards Eugene accusingly. “If nothin’ was ever gonna change, then why play up all that bullshit last night? Was it nothin’ more than a pity fuck for you? Somethin’ to take the mind off?”

And goddamn, Eugene can see it, can fucking feel it coming off him in waves as Snafu paces around, the visible whites of eyes and his tense shoulders, he can’t bare another rejection. He’s already so on edge from just the possibility that Eugene may be about to turn his back on him again, as if last night hadn’t meant a thing.

“Jesus, Snaf,” Eugene snaps, moving closer and attempting to pin him with his eyes. “Look at me. This was no pity fuck.” He takes Snafu’s face into his hands. Snafu looks like he wants to wrestle out of it but he seems to fight the urge. “Last night was the clearest my damn head has felt since my father fuckin’ found us.”

The guilty look on Snafu’s face tells him he knows he was being hasty and irrational but Eugene can’t blame him really, not after everything. Eugene ignores it and kisses him until he feels Snafu soften against him.

“But it cant be like before, Snaf,” Eugene breathes the moment there’s a gap in the kiss. Snafu presses forward to silence him further. Eugene feels rough fingers, slide up around the back of his head, pushing into his hair. 

“Run away with me, Gene,” Snafu murmurs against his cheek. Eugene almost laughs.

“Snaf...”

“Think about it,” Snafu cuts in before he can tell him his hundred reasons why that is not a good idea. “I told you I got a job offer in Beaumont. Come with me, we can get a place, you can go to a college closer to there.”

Eugene pulls away from him shaking his head. “It’s not that simple, Snaf.”

“Gene,” Snafu follows him and his hands slide down Eugene’s arms. “No one will know us there, we can make somethin’ up. No one will have to know anythin’ we don’t want them to.”

“All my family are here, Snaf. I can’t just abandon them.”

“You said it yourself, we can’t stay as we are. You don’t wanna lose your family but you said you can’t bare to lose me.”

“I can’t bare it,” Eugene agrees and hangs his head. It always comes back to choosing between Snafu and his family. His father made it for him that first time but being away from Snafu is something Eugene just cannot take now. He grew accustomed to being away from his family during the war, it never broke him as much as losing Snafu. He’d thought it would be him making the choice this time but really, the decision was made for him a while ago, by a power higher than any of them.

“There is no other way, Gene,” Snafu says as if reiterating the conclusion Eugene just came to by himself.

Eugene sighs and speaks in the smallest voice. “I know.”

Snafu moves closer to him again, takes his hips and pulls him against him. “I wish there were another way, Cher.”

“Alright.” He lifts his head and sucks in a few breaths before continuing. “Alright but you gotta gimme chance to think this through. I can’t just go runnin’ off into the night, they’ll have a whole search party comin’ after us before we can make it past New Orleans.”

“The guy’s expectin’ to be seein’ me sometime in the few weeks, is that too short?”

“M’not sure,” Eugene says distantly. “There’s a lot I gotta put in place, other people involved. You could always go an’ I could follow a bit later if I gotta.”

He can already see on Snafu’s face that he doesn’t like that idea but he says nothing against it. “However we gotta do this, jus’ s’long as it ends with us together, I’ll take it.”

Eugene nods. There’s a dark air around this entire thing, nothing feels safe or ideal but he has a feeling nothing will for some time to come now. But like Snafu said, if the result is they they are able to be together, then it’s got to be worth it.

“What about the broad?”

Eugene wishes Snafu’s voice wasn’t quite as bitter when he asks that but it doesn’t surprise him. “I gotta end it, she’s already more tangled up in this shit than she should’a ever been.”

“Well,” Snafu says at length and then sighs. “Look, it don’t sound fair but she might be the only thing that keeps your parents from gettin’ suspicious before you can get everything’ sorted.”

“Christ, Snaf,” Eugene says. “I can’t just drag her along after all this. You’re right, that ain’t fair at all.”

“Gene, she might be your safest bet o’ pullin’ this off. Look, it won’t be for long, right? End it now, end it in a couple weeks, what difference is it gonna make to her?”

“It’s just so...fuckin’ brutal.” Snafu takes his face and tilts him to get his eyes on him. 

“It may be our only chance.”

Eugene hates that Snafu may be right. He dragged the poor girl into it and he’s going to keep dragging her along just a lifeless more but god damn does he hate himself for it. He put himself through this world of shit in a vain attempt to convince himself he could force all of this out of him. But he can’t. He can’t and he doesn’t even want to anymore. He belongs with him. Snafu is his safety, his happiness. Snafu is home. And if he wants to have him, that’s not going to come without a price.


	14. Chapter 14

So they have a plan. In Eugene’s eyes it’s weak as fuck but he’s really starting to grasp the concept of removing all other options until there’s only one choice left because at least then it forces him to act. Snafu has agreed him some time to set up some kind of story. He’s going to find a university that’s closer to Beaumont and convince his parents that he feels it will be the better fit for him. He can only hope to Hell they have a course that matches the one he was aiming for with Alabama Poly. If not, well that’s just it, isn’t it; the ultimatum he can’t escape. Getting to be with Snafu might mean being allowed nothing else in his life he ever intended or strived for. It’s a big sacrifice, he already can hear his father trying to tell him how crazy this is and Eugene gets it but the one thing no one will ever be able to comprehend that Snafu would win out in this ultimatum every damn time. There is a gaping wound in his existence now and Snafu fills it. Hell, he’s the only thing keeping him from bleeding out and collapsing altogether, he knows that now even if no one else does.

And so this is his choice, the path he has chosen. And god does it involve a lot of lies, even he never could have predicted it. It feels like every other sentence that leaves his damn mouth is another falsity and half truth, just trying to get away with what he can until the time comes. And even now he has no idea how to handle that. He desperately does not want to just go running off into the night, his parents would be heartbroken, never knowing where he is, if he’s safe, they’d probably search. This is why the university story is his safe haven. But university doesn’t go on for ever. After that, when they want him to return to Mobile, live closer to home and work in the area. Then it starts to become even more complicated because they will never understand why he’s keeping them farther than arms length. They don’t deserve that, they don’t deserve any of this. But the idea of trying to sit them down and give them a reason for all of this? To tell them his decision and attempt to explain his choice as though it should be some courtesy? He just can’t see that happening but could he leave without giving them some closure?

He may never see them again after this. It feels that way, anyway. He’ll never see his brother again, no way would he want to after he finds out, Eugene knows him well enough to be sure of that. And Sid. Sid knows what Snafu is, at least on some level and was still willing to be civil. Eugene has no illusions that it was anything more than for his sake but that’s just the thing. He was so scared for him that Snafu would bring about trouble with the rumours above his head, not knowing that Eugene is so much more directly involved than he could have ever imagined. Would Sid extend the same gesture if he knew Eugene was just like Snafu? Would it be enough in the name of their friendship? Eugene has to assume negatively because he cannot be sure and in a scenario like this, everyone becomes a threat.

And Betsy. He won’t tell her, that’s just like rubbing salt into a wound he’s already gonna be creating. No, when he ends it with her, it will be clean and as simple as he can make it. A shift in his interests. Nothing like that can ever be pleasant but he can make it as gentle as possible.

Either that or if he keeps going as he is, Betsy may be the one to end it anyway.

Because the thing is, Eugene absolutely cannot bring himself to sleep with her anymore. Even through all of the lies and secrets, sex itself is just far too intimate and somehow he just believes she’d know, in an instant. To be naked and vulnerable with her, there would be no lie, nothing to hide behind. Just him and the fact that he cannot stay hard for her at all. He can barely kiss her now without the guilt of it all doesn’t make him breathless, close his chest up until he thinks he’s going to pass out. And he hates it but she’s so damn lovely to him every time. Always understanding, always trying to make it easier for him but never realising that it only makes it all worse.

...

He’s meeting Snafu tonight and it’s got him checking his watch over and over, trying to be subtle but he’s sure he’s caught Betsy eyeing him a couple of times. They have gone out to dinner and god this all just feels so wrong. He’s a cheating lying son of a bitch who deserves nothing in life. Betsy smiles and chats away to him like she always does. He listens quietly, he’s always quiet now. She takes his hand sometimes and gives him this little reassuring look, as if _she’s_ trying to show _him_ that everything is okay and God, the concept is almost laughable.

After the meal, Eugene walks her home, doing everything he can not to make her feel like he’s in a rush to leave but once he leaves her and walks down to the creek, it should be around the time he gave Snafu. He doesn’t think she’s noticed his anxiousness to get away but he has no decent excuse should she question. Before they reach the doorstep, she pulls him around to the garage and climbs into her parents car, tugging him along with her by his arm. 

He knows where this is going, they don’t do it every time they go out but sometimes she likes to be a little daring. He should be thrilled by this. Betsy deserves someone who appreciates her eagerness and passion and excitement. She’s genuine. And all he can think about is how this is going to make him late for Snafu.

She pushes him against the seat and kisses him, pushes her fingers into his hair, flicks her tongue against his lips, situates herself into his lap. He pays her back in kind, nipping her lips gently, taking her waist and rolling her hips down against his until she sighs for him. She pulls back and looks him in the eyes while taking his hand and pushing it under her dress and against herself. A clear request. Eugene gives her what she wants because goddamn he owes her that at least. He massages her through her underwear and she hides her moans in the crook of his neck. After a couple of minutes, he pulls his hand away and slides it back, underneath the material this time and she nips his shoulder in appreciation. It doesn't take long for him to bring her, shakily to her release. She slides down to the floor of the car, hands stroking down his body to undo his trousers but that’s it, he can’t take anymore and he stops her, pulling her up to sit next to him with an apologetic look. To allow her to do that, even if he were able to get hard enough, would feel like more than using her.

Betsy doesn’t push for him to let her, even though he knows she wants to. Ever since the incident with his nightmare in her bedroom, she has never pushed him for anything physically or emotionally. He can tell she thinks this is all about his time over there. Whenever he’s ‘too tired’ to stay out longer with her, when he’s quiet, when he turns down sex, she thinks this is about what he faced, about what he did to Betsy on that one night. If it weren’t about many other things before that, she’d likely be right. Eugene supposes it doesn’t matter what reasons she applies to his behaviour, the results are the same and she’s only ever been freely accommodating to them.

So then when Eugene excuses himself from their evening, feeling guilt drop from every word of his lie, that he's going to go home and sleep. Betsy doesn't argue, she kisses him sweetly and tells him to get himself some rest and he knows he's going to hell for this. Still, he kisses her on the doorstep and she waves him off until the end of the road, where he distantly hears the quiet click of Betsy closing the door, and his path diverts to a new destination. 

He tries to let the cool air wash her from his thoughts. This isn’t going to be for much longer. The temptation to end things now is overwhelming but he keeps himself at bay with promises of soon. Soon he won’t be dragging her along anymore, using her to dull suspicion, making her into his alibi. Soon he won’t even be around here anymore and she will forget him and find someone else, someone good.

Snafu is waiting for him in his usual place, up in the thick branched tree, absently kicking at a piece of loose bark until Eugene shifts into his vision and he drops down to approach him. It’s almost dark now, the air is cooler but not enough to cause goosebumps. No, the prickling along Eugene’s arms and back have nothing to do with the temperature. When Snafu reaches him, he moves to lay a hand around the back of Eugene’s neck, intent on leaning in to kiss him but Eugene dodges around it and walks past him. He can’t touch Snafu yet. His disgust in himself is high but to let Snafu touch him straight away would take things to a new level. This is not the first time he’s done this and Snafu only drops his hands and waits where he is but not before Eugene catches the entirely humourless smirk carve itself into his face.

Eugene keeps his feet moving until he’s standing at the very edge of the grass verge that drops down into the creek. The water is freezing when he plunges his hands into it but it’s better than nothing and he rinses the memory of Betsy from his skin, scooping up fresh water to scrub over his mouth. When he returns, Snafu’s face is not entirely readable but it is knowing and Eugene knows he hates this as much as he does. Still, Eugene doesn’t stop him when he lays his hands on his shoulders and pulls him closer.

Their lips meet but it’s not without the weight of everything that’s on both of their minds tarnishing what it should be. Snafu is trying though and Eugene isn’t about to criticise that, choosing instead to close his eyes and let his head tilt to allow Snafu room as he kisses along his jaw and down to his neck neck but Eugene's eyes open again when the lips leave his skin and he looks to see Snafu turning his head away.

"Fuck. I can smell her on ya." Snafu huffs it out like its funny but his tone so bitter, Eugene can almost taste the tone in his words. Eugene runs his fingers down Snafu's arm gently to get his attention but Snafu keeps his head turned and eyes averted.

"Snaf-"

"No, s’not like you shouldn’t smell of her," Snafu goes on like he's trying to convince himself he believes the words he’s saying. "She's your girl."

"Snaf, don't do this to yourself." Eugene pulls his arm and this time Snafu turns to face him.

"You do anything else with her? She must'a wanted it right? Fine lookin' guy like you, she ain't gonna be happy with a few kisses." Snafu eyes him hard. “You washed ya hands.” Eugene shakes his head but it's out of irritation. He's not denying what he's being accused of and Snafu knows it. A short noise leaves his throat and he turns away again, pacing.

"Come on, Snaf. I know, okay? I know it ain't ideal." He doesn’t dare to voice that this was Snafu’s idea, that he told Eugene that it would help him stay inconspicuous. "I don't know what else to do, give me a better solution an' I'll do it."

Snafu glares in no particular direction and gives a small shake of his head. He's not going to answer because he doesn't have one. Eugene wants to press him, goad him a little bit, push this small victory as if it actually feels like one. 

“It’s not for much longer,” he says instead, stepping closer and taking Snafu’s hands. “Soon enough it will be just us. He leans forward, giving Snafu plenty of chance to pull away before their lips meet. Snafu lets him, even opens his mouth to let him in and Eugene feels his heart flutter. He hates how much this hurts Snafu but it hurts him too. At the very least he can try to distract Snafu, even just for a little while, get him through all of this until it can be just them from then on. He strokes down his chest and sinks to his knees. There’s no way Snafu wouldn’t be able to read his intention and Eugene looks up in the hopes of finding some level of excited anticipation on Snafu’s face, just a small smirk to show he’s happy to receive.

He doesn’t get this. Snafu’s glare is cold but he still drops his hands to undo his own belt and free himself from his dungarees. Eugene knows what this means. Snafu wont be subdued with favours and Eugene hasn’t heard the last of their conversation, not that he ever believed he would anyway. Snafu takes a rough grip at the back of Eugene’s head and ah, that’s how this is going to be and really, it shouldn't be a surprise. Snafu is pissed at him, and when Eugene is pissed at Snafu, this is how it goes. Eugene wants to argue it, to tell Snafu where he can shove that attitude. But he doesn't. He doesn't because in a way, he owes Snafu that free pass for everything he's been through for him. And even now, he knows Snafu really is trying. Hell, he's trying too, but he knows this is a lot to ask but it’s in the name of their future together. And so he doesn't say anything, he licks his lips and tries to settle quickly.

The thick head of his cock presses to Eugene's lips and Snafu presses firmly, not at all asking for entry. He’s not entirely hard yet and it doesn’t surprise Eugene but he knows he will change that with a little time. He works a ball of spit into his mouth and wets his lips just as Snafu pushes himself inside. He hums a small protest at Snafu's impatience but flexes his tongue against the head when Snafu draws back. This makes Snafu release a satisfying hiss, his grip tightening in Eugene's hair.

It's not long before Snafu is working Eugene harder, moving quicker and pushing further, working through his anger and annoyance at everything and Eugene wants to take it for him, Snafu does so well when Eugene needs this and it’s his turn to pay him in kind. He tries to focus on breathing through his nose but Snafu's cock hits the back of his throat just once and Eugene tenses against his will despite his efforts and the next firm nudge has him gagging. He pulls away instantly and tries to breathe and calm his throat. 

He distantly hears Snafu make some humoured comment about choking on his cock but when Eugene drops forward onto his hands and retches, he falls quiet. Nothing comes up but images flash through his mind, all them slides after slides he sat through while hacking his guts up into that bucket. _No,_ he thinks desperately. Not now, it didn't work, _it didn’t work._ He and Snafu have had sex since then. It was fine!

"Gene." A hand settles on his back and rubs small circles in an attempt to comfort him. Eugene stops retching and breathes hard. "You sick?"

Eugene shakes his head and lets himself drop into a sitting position. His eyes are watering heavily and he swallows repeatedly.

"Didn't think I was bein' that rough with ya." Snafu says, dropping down next to him and tucking himself back into his clothes. "I'm sorry."

Eugene shakes his head again. "S'not that."

Snafu frowns at him. He doesn't understand. Eugene looks at his for a moment, sighs and then before he really know what's happening, words are pouring from his mouth. He tells Snafu everything. About the sessions, the hypnosis, the ipecac, why he got with Betsy, when he learned he could only sleep with her by imagining Snafu, even how he finally did actually try to get Snafu out of his head. Snafu's face is blank the whole time he speaks but he gets increasingly paler as Eugene reveals more and more, until it looks like he's going to be sick too.

"But it didn't work." Eugene feels the need to add that quickly, thinking Snafu might jump to the conclusion that that is what he's trying to tell him. But Snafu, it seems, has something else in mind.

"Ya old man." Snafu's face screws up. "He did that to you?" 

Eugene barely has time to realise that Snafu's hands are shaking before they're whipped from his vision as Snafu jumps to his feet and turns to start storming in the direction of Eugene's house. "I'll kill him, the fuck."

"Snaf!" Eugene scrambles after him. "Snaf, stop!" 

Eugene grabs his arm but Snafu throws him off. He grabs him again, more forcefully this time.

"Goddammit Snaf!" Eugene snaps. "I fuckin' let him do it! I consented to everythin' we did."

Snafu whirls around sharply. "How could he be okay with that?"

"Snaf, please. It ain't his fault. Hell, he tried to stop it when it got to much but I wouldn't let him. Snaf, I fuckin' begged him to let me keep tryin'."

"Why would you wanna-" Snafu is shaking his head at him in disbelief. 

"I was fuckin' desperate, Snaf." Eugene's eyes are watering again, but it's for a different reason now. "I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again so I had to do somethin’. You think I wanna be like this? I thought Betsy was my chance at a normal life."

The words sting, even as they leave his mouth and the look on Snafu's face makes him shut up. It makes his chest ache and his eyes burn and he blinks back the tears before they can fall.

"But I was wrong, Snaf. I see that now. I can't force myself to be different, it don't work like that." Eugene mutters the last part and drops his gaze. He can't take Snafu's expression any longer. The blood rushing in his ears drowns out all other noise and he jumps slightly when a hand brushes his cheek. A finger slides under his jaw and tilts his face until he's looking at Snafu again. Relief washes over him when he sees that Snafu's expression has softened.

"Gene." Snafu whispers. He doesn't say anything else to try and comfort him and Eugene doesn't blame him, in fact he's somewhat glad. What is there to say? There are no words to fix something like this. “Gene, we can’t stay here, not now.”

“We don’t need to up and run cause’a this. It all happened the same before you knew about it, this doesn’t change anythin’.” 

“The hell it don’t,” Snafu snaps. “You’re bein’ so damn mindful of him when all he’s done is let you believe that loving me is a sickness.”

It wasn’t as simple as that but Eugene doesn’t argue it. Of course Snafu would see it that way. And perhaps there’s a little part of Snafu that always feared that this could be true and that’s why it’s getting him like this. And maybe he just can’t stand the idea of what Eugene was going through this whole time but from the look of Snafu now, all thin and worn, he hasn’t been living soft in these last weeks either. 

Eugene knows Snafu has still been working for the small sums of cash he’s been living on and both of them have at least something left of their marines relief fund. They never talk about it but he knows Snafu was entitled to more than he was based on his home situation but Snafu sent most of his to his papa and Eugene has no idea how much he has left with him, if any. Even put together, what they have won’t last them long.

“We need money, Snaf,” Eugene says. “A few more jobs, we will save everythin’ we get but if we go now, we’ll be out on our asses in a couple weeks.” Eugene pushes away the realisation that he’s almost certain that Snafu hasn’t been living in anywhere secure for a while now and that the idea of having nowhere to stay wouldn’t worry him as much as it does for him.

“I can get us the cash,” Snafu tells him with an uncomfortable amount of certainty. 

“I know you can but it’s gonna take a little while, you can’t work any faster than you are.”

“That’s not the only way.”

Eugene isn’t sure exactly what Snafu is getting at so instead of speaking, he watches Snafu and waits for him to elaborate. Snafu holds his gaze for a brief moment before breaking it and starting to pace a little bit.

“I, uh, I cornered a fella in the bar,” Snafu sniffs. “Says he knows a guy lookin’ to snatch up any gold or silver anyone’s willin’ to part with. Told me he’d pay a packet to get his hands on whatever I got.”

Snafu doesn’t need to say exactly what kind of gold or silver he’s referring to. Eugene knows, with a cruel chill that leaves his spine uneasily rigid, his face turns downwards as he watches Snafu. “I didn’t think you still had them.”

Snafu only shrugs.

“No way,” Eugene goes on when he gets no further reply. “You can’t use them.”

“Why not?” Snafu frowns. “It can get us what we need in a couple hours.”

“We can’t make money off’a dead bodies like that, it’s too direct. People died,” Eugene presses. Snafu balks.

“A group of nips sent out to torture an’ kill us. Bodies _you_ helped pile.”

“We ain’t in the war anymore, Snaf. Livin’ off them after killin’em? It’s pretty low.”

“Y’know,” Snafu spits at him. “I wish I could say this is the worst thing I ever had to do for cash but this ain’t shit.”

Eugene opens his mouth to retort but pauses, realising he doesn’t want to press into that. He’d rather not know what the implications are there. When he speaks again, his voice is considerably softer than before but not without the same conviction. “You pawn them off, it’s no better than blood money.”

“What do you want me to do, bury it?” He gestures wildly and the expression on his face tells Eugene just what he thinks of the idea.

“Maybe you should,” Eugene says in a small voice.

“Gene we need this. There’s only so much longer we can stay as we are before it all catches up,” Snafu says. “We are already pushin’ into time we don’t have.”

“Sounds like your mind’s already made up,” Eugene says and then sighs. He’s tired and this is getting them nowhere. “It’s late, come on.”

When Eugene turns to start walking towards his house, he’s not sure if Snafu will actually follow him for a moment but then he hears the sound of footsteps a little way behind him, not quite catching him up for a few minutes. They walk in silence though and neither of them speak even once Eugene has made his usual show of entering the house through the front door, should anyone be up waiting for him and then hurrying to his bedroom to help Snafu climb up through his window or even as they undress themselves for bed. Eugene climbs under his covers first while Snafu smokes by the window. His eyes are already getting heavy when he feels the weight of the bed shift.

“Y’know I’d do more than one questionable thing if it meant gettin’ to be with you.”

And oh how unfair that is, Eugene thinks. He can’t possibly stay mad at that. He also can’t argue it because of course he’d be just as willing to step on questionable ground, Hell he _has_ done exactly that for Snafu. An arm slides gingerly over his waist, tugging ever so lightly in such a gentle request, Eugene can’t deny it and he rolls over. He can barely make out Snafu’s features in the pitch darkness of his room but he can hear the hesitation in his breaths. 

“It’s the only thing that matters, Cher.”

Eugene strokes the side of Snafu’s face, feeling him lean into it, an air of submissiveness about him that makes it even more impossible to remain firm.

“I know,” Eugene whispers to him. He doesn’t stop Snafu from pressing closer to him either. “But you don’t gotta resort to that, I will come up with the cash.”

“How you gonna do that?”

“I’ll figure somethin’ out,” He answers with as much certainty as he can get into his voice. Snafu says nothing further, just tucks his face against Eugene’s neck, signalling a wish to fall quiet and sleep now and Eugene is happy enough to let it rest there. He has a feeling this is not over but distracting themselves from sleep is not going to fix anything for either of them and so he lets his mind settle against the comfort and warmth of Snafu’s firm body pressed against him and drifts into a needed sleep.

When his eyes next open, he’s immediately aware of two things. One; it is still very early, the morning sun barely creeping into the bulk of the trees, casting only a dim dreary light through his window. Two; Snafu is not in the bed next to him. Eugene slides his arm along the spot where he’d been and it’s still slightly warm, he’s not been gone too long but he’d clearly aimed to leave before Eugene woke up and his heart sinks. He’s almost certain he knows what this means.

Eugene hates to admit it, even to himself but, with or without the specifics, he understands what Snafu was getting at when he said it’s not the first time he’s had to reject some of his morals in the name of acquiring cash. He was once again pointing out a clear divide between them. Eugene doesn’t know. How could he? He grew up in a family that never had to consider money, to never not know where the next meal was going to come from, to never need to debase himself for a few coins. It’s a side of life he’s never had to face. It’s somewhat easy for him to stand there and ask Snafu to bury the gold in some show of symbolic moral high ground but in truth, that gold is no different buried in the ground than it is if it remained in the rotting skulls of the dead Japs he took it from. At least this way it can come to some use, even if only for them.

_That doesn’t make it feel any more right._

He can’t help it but it doesn’t. And Eugene isn’t even sure if, had Snafu offered the same thing when they were both freshly returned from war, he’d have even had the same issue with it that he does now but they’re not fresh home from war, he’s not still in the same place as he was then. Things have changed. And now he’s not the kind of man who feels clean about going along with what Snafu suggested.

He doesn’t see Snafu at all that day, not when he walks over the creek in the morning, nor when he does the same again much later. He doesn’t let it worry him, this is most likely only confirming what he thinks he already knows anyway and when he goes to bed again that evening, he doesn’t look up when he hears the light scraping of his bedroom window being pushed open further. He doesn’t move when he feels the bed dip behind him and that once again familiar weight comes to rest against his back.

“You sold the gold.” Eugene doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. And Snafu doesn’t need to say a word for him to know the answer. He knew the answer the moment his eyes cracked open at dawn and now it’s confirmed. He knows that this is not because Snafu has no faith in his ability to get the cash, knows he’d never mean it that way. It’s still almost impossible for it not to feel like it is, though. And god it stings. It stings enough that Eugene does no more than nod once, firm and accepting but still making no move to look at him. He doesn’t want to, can’t face that right now. He doesn’t stop Snafu’s hands when they find his waist but he will not turn to face him. It’s only a small relief when Snafu does not try to make him.

..........

They don’t bring up the gold again. It’s done after all and it’s not long before there’s enough else on his mind that the selling of some gold teeth seems pretty trivial in the scheme of things.

Like how he’d never thought things could go from bearable to completely fucked in the light of the same day more than once in his life. Or that it would happen quite as soon as it does.

As soon as the next time Betsy comes to his house for dinner with his family. As soon as Betsy asking him, in front of his damn father, if he's feeling any more rested than the other night, following with a comment about how she hopes that cutting their night short did not go to waste. Of course, she says all of this with her usual, playful grin, innocent and completely ignorant of what she’s just unwittingly done.

But it's not her grin that Eugene is watching once he feels his father's thoughtful eyes on him, putting the pieces together in his head like a particularly complex jigsaw. Except that there are pieces here that don't match, that will never match. Eugene knows this and a few seconds later, so does his father. Eugene and Betsy cut their date short? Yet Eugene still did not return home until late into the night. 

_He knows._

Eugene's heart sits in his throat throughout the entire meal, making every mouthful of food a battle against himself, every sip of water threatening to flood his lungs as he struggles to force it down. 

_He knows._

He can feel his father's eyes burn into him from time to time and it does nothing but add to the increasing weight boring down onto his shoulders. 

_He knows._

He feels like he's being more obvious than he really is. Other than his father's suspicious glare, his mother along with his brother and Betsy are talking away as though everything is completely normal. Eugene forces himself to focus on that, just to keep himself sane for long enough to get through dinner.

When his mother ushers Betsy into the living room, no doubt to show her some photograph she's seen at least three times prior, Eugene's father quietly asks to speak with him in his office. The words wrap around Eugene's throat and constrict, chaining him like some prisoner and dragging him to follow his father. He looks back to see his brother pouring himself another drink. If he heard what their father said, he shows no sign of it.

The close of the office door is gentle but it echoes around the room as if slammed by a harsh wind and Eugene flinches at it. He can’t even begin to pretend like he doesn’t know precisely what he’s doing in here and from the look on his father’s face, it’s only a case of bringing himself to say the words. His father doesn't speak for a few seconds and Eugene doesn't know if he's expecting him to start trying to stumble over some kind of explanation but he holds out, feels the need to fill the silence tugging at the hard knot in his stomach. He keeps his eyes averted, looks anywhere around the room to avoid his father but he regrets it. Even just being in here makes him queasy now, or is it just the dizzying knowledge of what's about to come?

"Have you been seein' him again?"

And there it is. He dares himself to try and deny it, try and hide behind some deflections and half truths but all he can do is stare ahead of himself. Eugene couldn't reply if he wanted to, his lips have gone numb. He’s already glaringly aware that by remaining silent, he’s more than answered the question though and his father’s sharp intake of breath, just a little too slow to be a gasp, followed by a small nod of his head is his acknowledgement of words that don’t need to be spoken.

"I see." Eugene bristles and prepares himself for the ocean of disgust to crash over him in waves. The anger, the shame, the disappointment. His father opens his mouth to speak a few times, words failing him at each attempt and that's even worse than Eugene could have prepared himself for. "Them evenings at the bar-"

"Papa, we tried,” Eugene pleads, tongue suddenly loosening with a need to try and explain, he couldn’t acknowledge verbally but he cannot allow the thoughts he knows are swimming around inside his father’s head now. “You sat in here and watched, for weeks we tried to get rid of this. This ain’t...war didn’t cause this. Papa, I love him.”

His father’s face, the sadness, the disappointment is all too much for Eugene and the desperation leaves him enough to hang his head. He wishes he could appear anything but ashamed. He’s not ashamed of his love for Snafu, he’s not sure he ever was, not really. His shame comes entirely under the weight of his father.

“I know it ain’t what you wanna hear but I-”

"You will never be happy." His father cuts in. There’s no menace in his voice, no anger or disgust. No threat, just sadness and remorse and it’s far worse this way. "Your feelings for Shelton, I can’t tell you if that’s love. It don’t matter what it is. It don’t matter what you want or what I want for you, Eugene. Whatever life you ever hoped for yourself will be tainted by this decision, this infatuation will cost you everythin’ you love."

"That's not-" 

“All those walks over the creek every night, what, does he wait for you there?” He doesn’t wait for a reply before shaking his head and averting his eyes like it’s too much to look at his son for a moment. "Perhaps he has blinded you with imaginary tales of love. But mark my words, boy, it will be your undoing. There is no future with this man where you both walk away unscathed."

"Too late for that," Eugene snaps bitterly. He wants to tell his father it’s not imaginary, of that he’s certain now but it won’t change anything. "Will you tell mama?"

"To tell your mother would be to finish her." Dr Sledge says sadly. "The only thing I ask of you is that you do not allow this to poison any more people than it already has."

Eugene cannot reply, there is nothing to be said to words like that and in all truth, it hurts to much to even try. He takes a step back, not daring to believe what his father is asking of him but his father takes his arm.

"Betsy does not deserve to be ruined by this too. If word ever got out, do you realise the damage it would do to her?"

Okay, that is not where he thought this was going. For the first time since entering this room, Eugene looks up at his father. He looks old and worn. 

“Betsy?”

"You walk her home and you end it, understand?" There’s enough fire in his eyes this time that Eugene only nods quickly.

The moment he releases his arm, Eugene turns and storms straight through the door. He bashes straight into his brother and an instant panic fills his chest wondering how long he’d been there. He waits for any sign that Edward heard anything he and his father had just said but relaxes a fraction when Edward only grunts his surprise and mutters a quick apology before carrying on in his original direction, grabbing his jacket from the hanger near the door and slipping out.

He forgets his momentary panic, he can’t think, the air in the house is too suffocating right now and he rushes out the back to get some air. The sound of Betsy still talking to his mother is dimmed by Eugene's foot kicking the wall, his temper overtaking him for a moment.

His heart is pounding so hard he can hear it. It makes him want to kick the wall again to admit it, but his father is right about one thing at the very least. Betsy doesn't deserve this and he should have never allowed it to continue once he and Snafu reconnected. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs to himself.

"Gene?" 

Eugene startles and whirls around to see Betsy peering at him from the doorway. Even now, hearing her shorten his name the way Snafu does, it's not the same. There's no warmth flooding his chest, no prickle to the skin on the back of his neck, no small thrill up his spine. Nothing.

"Betsy," Eugene says and even to his own ears he sounds defeated. 

"Everythin' okay?" The look of genuine concern on her face only makes him feel worse. She must have heard him kick the wall. He fights hard against the instinct to act like everything is fine. There’s no way his father would sit back and let him disobey this expectation, and nor should he, not when he’s right about this, even if only this. 

"We gotta talk." Eugene breathes out the words in a sigh, not quite able to meet her eyes. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

After saying goodbye to his parents, they walk in silence for a few minutes. He can tell she's guessed what's coming, or at least something close. He can feel it in the air, the change. The way she moves, the way she breathes, the attitude towards him has changed. And it's not in a negative way, he's not sure Betsy could really be nasty if she tried. It's almost like she's already let him go. He doesn't know if he should feel comfort at this but he doesn't.

“I think you know what I’m gonna say.” Even just the physical act of pushing the air from his lungs in a way that shapes into those words hurts his chest. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hurry up and end this, there’s just a lot of truths coming to light this evening, everything happening so fast. This is not how he wanted to do this.

“I think maybe I do,” Betsy replies at length. She doesn’t look at him, only ahead of herself but her voice is very calm and controlled. “I think maybe it’s been this way for you for a while.”

Eugene can’t bring himself to deny it.

“It’s not been all that long since you got back, I know you don’t like to talk about it but,” she finally looks at him and he suddenly feels cornered, like there’s nowhere to run from her words now. “I think there’s a lot you’re tryin’ to cope with, what happened over there an’ tryin’ to figure out what you wanna do now, it’s a lot, an’ this, us, it’s all just too much for you right now.”

She may not be entirely wrong but she’s not entirely right either. Eugene could never even begin to try and explain to her, not without ruining her completely. “God, Betsy, I’m so sorry, this has all been so selfish, this was never supposed to be about just me.”

“It didn’t always feel that way,” Betsy promises. “An’ when it did, there was always a reason, like after that nightmare. I thought I could be what you needed but I think this is deeper than either of us can reach this way.”

At least with that part she’s not wrong at all. Eugene nods. “I’m sorry Betsy,” He says again, just because he needs to.

“I hope you find a way to live with what happened,” she tells him as they turn a corner and her house slides into view. “I hope you find what it is you need to start lovin’ the world again.”

The temptation to balk, to make some bitter comment rises in his chest. But she doesn't understand why what she's saying is a complete impossibility, so he holds his tongue. "Thanks, Betsy. I hope the same for you too. You'll find someone, someone who's worthy of you because you deserve that."

When they're approaching her house, Eugene slows to a stop and Betsy turns to him. 

"This will not be goodbye, Eugene Sledge." She states elegantly. He smiles with what he hopes is appreciation and yet another apology and leans in to give her a hug. She kisses his cheek sweetly and wishes him well. “We will see each other around. And please, don’t let it be awkward, there’s really nothin’ worse for you an’ everyone who has to watch it, alright?”

Eugene can’t help his grin. “You’re right about that,” He says. “You really are one of the nicest people I know.”

“Well good, that’s a compliment worth holdin’ onto.” She kisses his cheek again and strokes the side of his face with her thumb. “Find your calm, Eugene and when we speak again, I pray it will be with news of good progress.”

He wants to tell her, reassure her that he already found his calm a while ago, even if he never realised it right away but he knows she wouldn’t understand, as much as she wishes well for him, if she knew the price of that peace, she might not be so hopeful for him and he couldn’t bare to see the realisation glaze across her eyes, the surprise turning to sadness or pity.

“Take care, Betsy,” are the only words that leave his mouth.

Once she’s inside, he turns tail and heads straight back towards his home. Snafu will already be at the creek, waiting for him like he said he would, like he always does now but he can’t go to him yet. God, he’s gonna have to explain what happened, that it really is time for them to get moving. He trusts that his father won’t tell anybody, it’s not that, it’s the fact that his father is right, at least in some ways, this is reaching out too far now, touching too many peoples lives when it really shouldn’t be and the longer he and Snafu stay here, the worse it is going to get, the harder it’s going to become to not involve even more people. 

At least now he can talk to his father. Fleeing away in the night, leaving nothing but a note was never something he wanted to do. His father won’t agree with his choice but the only way for this to work in his father’s favour is with Snafu out of the picture and that is just not going to happen, Eugene cannot give him up, not even for his own family. They’re going to where Snafu has work lined up, out in Beaumont and it’s not truly that far away but it’s enough distance that Eugene needs to put between them and his parents, even just for a little while.

And now his father knows about him and Snafu again. Not in the same way he knew before because the moment he discovered it, it was all over. Now he knows but this time Eugene is in no way going to give in so quickly. He’s ready to fight for Snafu this time because there is no doubt in his mind this time that everything between has ever been anything but love. The concept that this can go on, with his father's knowledge while still keeping his mother out of it is impossible though. Could his father live with himself to even try? Is it fair for Eugene to ask him to? No, it’s not fair. None of this is fair. 

He thinks that maybe even Snafu knew he was putting this off in his own way, not because he doesn’t want to be able to be with Snafu properly but because there is such an air of finality to it all. He was always going to have moved out sooner or later but this way is so much more isolating than if he’d been moving in with some broad. And hell, he’s been to fucking war but even then he felt less alone, surrounded by his comrades in arms. But once he and Snafu leave, it’s going to be just them, out on their own. And maybe they can go out and visit Burgie, connect with a friend of two, maybe even make new ones but they will never be able to be completely honest about their situation and in the end, that is what will make it feel the most lonely. But he already knows it is worth it and he knows they will figure this out, there has to be some way that they can make it work. Because the only other option ends with him losing Snafu again and that is not an option anymore.

His house stands before him. And here it is, the time has arrived. He suspects his father may already be awaiting his return. He will surely know this conversation is dawning upon them. It has been for some time. He will talk to his father, tell him what he is going to do, lay out his options. His father is a fair man, he will listen. He will also likely try to talk Eugene out of this but it doesn’t matter now. His father has seen Eugene before once his head and heart are both set into a decision and he will see it again now. Then he will go to Snafu. He must tell him what has happened tonight and figure out their next move. Eugene is not so worried about that. Snafu will be ready for this, he has perhaps been ready for this for longer than Eugene himself has. 

If he packs up his things tonight, maybe they can depart sometime in the morning. They’ve not much money, even with what Snafu managed to snag for pawning the teeth, it won’t get them far. But Snafu says he has work waiting and Eugene can hear his voice now, clear as day. “We’ll land on our feet, Gene. I know it.”

He only hopes to Hell that Snafu is right as he walks towards his front door and the image of his father's disapproving glance flashes in his mind. His heart pales. It’s getting harder and harder to face these looks, to feel like he’s growing into nothing more than a continuous disappointment in his father’s eyes. 

The moment he gets inside, he hears a flurry of voices and movement coming from the dining room. A couple of the voices are slightly raised and tense. 

“You gotta help-”

“Calm down,”

“He was never meant to actually-”

“What was he doin’ when you left? Where is he now?” 

He recognises the one to be his brother, Edward. The voice that sounds full of panic. The other one is unmistakably his father’s but there’s other voices, ones he can’t place specifically without a visual. With a deep frown, he hurries into the room to find Edward, his parents and two of Edwards friends. It takes Eugene a moment to take in the image of them all, suddenly feeling very small when the noise goes silent and five pairs of eyes are on him in the next second. His mother is white as a sheet and looks like she's going to pass out any moment. His father is just as pale, and the look on his face is nothing like the one Eugene was expecting to see from him next. This one is devastatingly worse. A look filled with fear and dread.

His eyes halt at the blood on Edwards torn shirt and he follows it up to see that it's coming from his nose and lip, which is split and swollen. It looks painful.

"My god." Eugene rushes forward to Edward. "What happened? Who did this t-"

"You get the fuck away from me you fuckin’ liar," Edward spits at him, a surge of anger seeming to over shine the panic in his voice just seconds ago as he’s shoving him away roughly. Even in his confusion, Eugene quickly notices that Edwards hands are in much worse condition than his face. Clearly Edward left this fight victorious. Eugene doesn't find that comforting at all and a sharp chill runs through him at Edwards words. "That ‘ _girl_ at the creek’ huh? All this time?"

“There’s no time for this,” his father starts to say and there’s something in his voice. Eugene stares at him in horror. 

Eugene hears his mother sob his name before she starts crying for real but his eyes remain on his father. "What did you-"

"He didn't have to say a thing," Edward jerks Eugene’s shoulder around to force him to face him again. "I heard what you were talking about in there." He twitches his head in the direction of their father's office and Eugene curls his trembling hands into fists. He bumped into Edward when he left the office earlier. But his brother didn’t say anything to him, he just left. Eugene doesn’t understand. "What you an' that sick fuck of a swamp rat been gettin' up to."

Eugene's heart drops into his stomach when it clicks in his head. The blood, the fight, his brothers words... _the state of his hands._

"What did you do?" His voice sounds weak in his own ears and his legs feel like jelly but he forces them to step closer to Edward again. This time, he sees the exact moment when the anger in Edward’s eyes is washed out by pure fear, mind returning back to what had been happening before Eugene had come home. He shakes his head.

“I-I didn’t—it was just supposed to scare him,” 

"What the fuck did you do?" Eugene's demands, eyes turning on Edward’s two friends in the hopes of a faster response. One of their hands are fucked up too and they’re shaking just as much as his brother is. Then something catches Eugene's eyes and his glance trails past the two guys to the dining room table behind them, and in particular at the object laying on it. He lurches forward and grabs the Revolver before any of them can stop him. Retreating he pulls back the cylinder. When he examined this very gun in his Edwards room, it had been empty. Now it is not empty. It has been fully loaded minus two bullets. Why would he load a gun with all but two bullets? He wouldn’t. 

"It j-just—it just went off, you gotta believe me, it was never meant to-" Edward stammers helplessly and Eugene snaps. A yell tears from his throat as he surges forward, ramming his arms into Edward and slamming him into the wall behind. Their mother cries at them to stop and his brothers two friends move forward to pull Eugene off him. They immediately back off when Eugene aims the gun at Edward’s head. Their mother starts screaming.

"Christ, Eugene!" He hears his father's voice but his eyes are fixed in front of him. Edward straightens up a fraction and watching him warily. Eugene hasn't cocked the gun but no one seems to notice this in the panic. His hand is shaking fiercely.

"Tell me what you did to him," Eugene's demands, his voice is like ice.

“Eugene!” His father’s voice comes again.

Edward looks like he wants to challenge him for a moment but the flash in his eyes gives him away. Eugene knows he can see his finger isn’t on the trigger but that doesn’t stop him from holding himself more cautiously as he lifts his hands up, baring his palms. When he speaks, his voice shakes so much he can barely get the words out. "You gonna shoot me, huh? Your own brother over that—that—" Eugene steps closer when Edward doesn't give him anything in the way of an answer and he sees his eyes widen even more, hears the small sounds of panic from everyone else in the room with them. His mother lurches at the very edge of his vision but his father forces her back. Eugene’s hand still trembles but he forces his voice to steady enough to speak.

“Eugene,” his father’s voice is quieter this time but no less terrified.

"You tell me where he is, so help me God."

They stare at each other for a moment. His brother curses and looks between him and their father.

“The creek—he’s at the creek.”

Eugene lowers his arm while backing away, he disarms the revolver and throws it down onto the chair and makes for the door. He hears his father shout for him to wait but he ignores it without a second thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only apologise for how long it’s been since the last update and I hope people are still interested in this. One chapter to go!! It’s pretty exciting and I will get it out as soon as I can, I’m sorry to leave you with such a cruel cliffhanger. Thank you so much to those who’ve stuck through this from the beginning and those who came in half way, or those joining now, I hope you enjoy how this all turns out.


	15. Chapter 15

He bolts. He fucking tears. He runs until his lungs feel like they've torn to shreds and then he runs some more. Only one thing in his mind. 

Snafu.

Snafu.

He's gotta get to him. He's gotta get to him. He's gotta...

He reaches the fields and races across them as he rips his way through the bushes. The tree, their tree comes into view and the sound of running water reaches his ears. It's dark but he squints his eyes in the hopes of being able to pick up something in the moonlight.

"SNAF?" His voice breaks as he yells it but he repeats it again. His breath comes out in heaving gasps as he stumbles forward.

It’s not until he gets closer that he realises there’s a lump at the base of their tree that’s not normally there and in an instant he’s streaming towards it, ignoring the raw pain surging up his own chest and throat, begging him to stop and breathe. He can taste blood but he doesn’t care. He can’t tell if that lump is moving or not and every other necessity in existence is going to have to wait until he can find out.

The lump is Snafu, he can see it for certain now, the moonlight dusting the curls of his hair and highlighting the edges of his arms and jaw. He’s propped up against the tree trunk, awkwardly but there’s movement, breathing and it gives Eugene the push to make it to his side, dropping to his knees, gasping for air. He’s not sure how with the heavy footsteps of his sprinting but the thud of his knees startles Snafu. An arm flies up and knocks Eugene sideways and he scrambles to hold Snafu still.

"Snaf, Snaf, it's me. Snaf, stop!" It takes a few seconds but he takes Snafu's beaten face into his hands and forces his eyes to meet his. Snafu falls still and breathes harshly, groans coming out broken and hoarse.

Eugene takes in the mess that is Snafu’s face. There's blood everywhere, sticky and dark against his skin, matting his curly hair. Boy, they really went to town on him. His _brother_ did this. 

"Gene." Snafu's voice is distant but otherwise clear. His right arm is clamped over a patch just below his left shoulder but blood has already spilled past his fingers, coating his trembling hand in wet and making it shine under the light.

"Jesus, Snaf," Eugene croaks, struggling to keep his voice steady as he leans over him, his hands roaming for a place to find purchase to pick him up. The panic is catching up to him but he can’t afford to lose focus, not when he needs to help Snafu. "We gotta get you outta here."

Snafu struggles out of his attempts. “Fuckin’ breath would ya? That fuckin’ moron barely nicked me.”

And true to his words, he sounds more pissed off than in pain. Eugene can’t help but feel like it’s the shock keeping him this way and that won’t last. 

“Snaf, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that he was gonna..that he would...” Eugene babbles the words at him, half of it stringing together into the same syllables.

“M’gessin’ the kid never fired a damn gun ‘fore,” Snafu mutters, looks down at his shoulder and shakes his head as though disappointed by the poor marksmanship. He can’t seem to stop that tremor in his hand though, even as he presses harder against his shoulder as if to make up for it. Eugene frowns, confusion stunting his panic. Snafu’s words make no sense.

“Edward?” Eugene says. “You know he has.”

“Christ no,” Snafu barks. “If it had been him, you really think I’d be sittin’ up at all?” Snafu scowls ahead of himself as he explains. “No, one’a his dumbass fuckin’ friends pulled it on me. Shot the ground tryin’a scare me ‘n everythin’. He went ta speak an’ the fuckin’ thing went off in his hand, copped me in the shoulder an’ they all took off after yellin’ at each other about what to do. Edward shouted somethin’ about ya ol’ man.”

The noise Snafu makes is so close to a scoff, it almost carries the same kind of humour, as though he finds the whole scenario so foolish, it’s almost funny to him. Like he hasn’t just been fucking shot. Unable to commit to any level of humour though, Snafu winces as he tries to shift against the tree, to straighten up from where he’s slowly slumped down. Eugene reads it as an attempt to get up and moves to help him but Snafu shrugs out of it, wincing again as it jolts his shoulder. 

“Told ya I’m fine. Don’t even hurt that much.”

 _That’s because you’re in shock_ Eugene doesn’t say out loud, Snafu would only deny it if he did.

“We gotta get it cleaned up, get it checked, Snaf,” Eugene insists. “Make sure it ain’t hit anythin’-”

“An’ when they ask why you’re haulin’ in some kid with a bullet hole in him?” Snafu bites, slurring some of his words. “Y’really want that kinda trouble around?”

"Eugene!"

Eugene is cut off from his retort by a recognisable voice behind him. He whirls around to see his father rushing up towards him, brief case in hand.

“Papa...” 

"Shelton, where you hit?" Snafu gestures with his head to where his hand is cupped over his left side, just a little below his shoulder. Eugene's eyes drop to an especially dark patch of Snafu's shirt, the wetness of renewed blood visible even in the dim light.

Dr Sledge opens up the case and pulls out scissors, handing them to Eugene, he orders him to cut open his shirt. "Quickly now." 

Snafu doesn’t resist his approach but he does eye him with an expression Eugene isn’t in the frame of mind to try and understand just now.

As soon as they pull the material back, Eugene's eyes land on the small hole somewhere between his shoulder and chest before it's being covered with a thick wad of gauze and his father's hands. "Put pressure on that so I can wrap it up." 

Dr Sledge lifts the shoulder up just enough to get his hand underneath, searching for something.

"There's no exit wound, the bullet's still in there." His father states and then curses. “He needs the hospital, I can’t do nothin’ here.”

“M’fine,” Snafu tries to argue it with him, too but he’s got no chance at talking the two of them out of it now and despite the energy of his anger, Eugene can tell he’s too weak and in shock to really try. Especially when he gets a firmer look at him and Snafu’s eyes can’t seem to focus on anything and his head is hanging slack and unsteady from his neck. There's so much blood, Eugene's vision blurs knowing it's all from Snafu. He should be used to this by now, seeing all this blood. He is used to it. But he's not used to seeing someone he cares about this much, who he’s been through so much with in this kind of state. And that's the difference

When Eugene hesitates, Dr Sledge raises his voice. "Car’s on the edge of the field, come on."

In a joint effort, they haul Snafu up, hooking his arms around their shoulders. Snafu cries out at the pain but he doesn't fight them. They amble their way back across the field towards the car. Snafu tries to take a couple of steps every now and then, but his feet mostly fall limp and they all but drag him the majority of the way.

Eugene scrambles into the back seat of the car and drags Snafu across the seat and next to him, leaning heavily against Eugene’s shoulder. Snafu is muttering unintelligible things. Eugene strokes the sticky hair away from his face despite Snafu’s flinching away from it, made even more difficult by the fact his own hands are covered in blood and grit too. A wave of nausea hits and his mouth waters. This feels too familiar from a time that is supposed to be in the past. Neither of them were ever supposed to see this kinda shit again. It makes him want to scream but as the car lurches and begins moving, Snafu jolts into a slightly clearer consciousness and tries to lift his head off Eugene’s shoulder with a groan.

"Easy." Eugene hushes him, his voice shaking so much he's not even sure Snafu can understand him. "Just keep still, Snaf. Eyes on me, just keep your eyes on me." He follows this by angling his face so that their eyes can meet comfortably.

"G-Gene." Snafu's voice is weaker and he’s trembling violently. The blood loss, the adrenaline, everything must be taking its toll on him now. He wishes they had a blanket, something to cover him, he uses his free arm to cradle Snafu a little but he knows it’s not much help.

"I'm so sorry, Snaf." Eugene’s voice is breaking again. "This is all my fault, I let this happen, I-"

He trails off when Snafu shakily raises a hand to touch his face. His breathing falters as he tries to speak. "Shut the f-fuck up, Sledgeh-hamma." He smiles weakly in the most un-Snafu way Eugene has ever seen.

"You're gonna be alright." Eugene babbles, nodding as he does. He's not sure if his words are supposed to comfort Snafu or himself. "You're gonna be just fine, the doctors are gonna fix you right up." 

Snafu huffs out a breath that could be a laugh. "Managed to m-make it through an entire war." Snafu speaks but it's broken and he has to stop to breathe every few words. "All them y-years, barely a scratch."

Eugene strokes his face with his thumb.

"And now look at me...got sh-shot under a fuckin' tree." His throaty laugh is cut off by a yelp of pain when the car hits a bump, jolting Snafu. Fresh blood starts soaking through the gauze and his eyes roll again.

"Papa, hurry." Eugene taps Snafu’s face to focus his eyes again. "Stay with me, Snaf. You're not fuckin' goin' anywhere, you hear me?"

Snafu doesn't respond. Eugene taps him harder and this time he starts lightly. “F-feel sick.”

"Has he got anythin' on him?" Dr Sledge calls back from the front seat. "A wallet, anythin' valuable?"

"Why does that matter-"

"Take it off him, anythin' he's got, throw it under the car seat, just do it."

Eugene awkwardly tries to search him. Apart from the wallet in his back pocket, he's got nothing on him. Eugene pulls it from the pocket and tosses it under the seat.

“Gene,” Snafu breathes again. “Gene, feel sick.”

When the car pulls over near the hospital entrance, Dr Sledge jumps out and comes around to help Eugene pull Snafu from the back. Snafu doubles over and vomits onto the ground just a few feet from the car and Eugene holds him firm so he doesn’t drop down into it when he’s knees try to buckle. 

“M’fine,” Snafu chokes, even more unconvincingly than the last few times he tried to insist it. He staggers when Eugene tries to guide him around the mess and towards the entrance of the hospital but he manages to get him through the doors.

Dr Sledge calls over for help and Eugene feels Snafu's weight leave him as the doctors start busying around Snafu. Dr Sledge is explaining something to the doctors and Eugene distantly hears him say something about finding him like that and that Snafu said he’d been mugged but the words don't fully register with him. Blood rushes through his ears and makes him dizzy. 

He stumbles and feels a nurse place a hand on his shoulder. Something in his face must tell her something because she’s thrusting a bowl at him a few second later and he’s suddenly emptying the contents of his stomach into it. She rubs his back, moves the bowl away, guides him to sit down and fetches him some water. He doesn't want it but she insists he drink, so he does, just to make her leave him alone. He looks down at his stained hands. They're trembling so much, they're a blur under his unfocused vision.

His father returns some time later, Eugene doesn't know how long. He is just sitting and staring ahead of himself, body numb and mind a mess, unable to cling onto any one thought.

"He's lost a lot of blood but they've removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding." He tells him. "Eugene?"

Eugene blinks and looks up at him, his focus finally snapping into place to realise his father is talking to him.

"The cops are gonna be around here in the mornin', Eugene." His father goes on. "They’re gonna want answers and you don't want that kinda attention around here-"

"Don't pretend it's for our own safety." Eugene snaps before he even realises the words are leaving his mouth. "Maybe we don't want that but it's not me you're lookin' out for here."

It doesn't surprise him that his father wants to keep Edward out of trouble, of course he would, but his blood still boils at the thought of what his brother did to Snafu. Even if he didn’t pull the trigger, he still caused this, still beat him and tried to threaten him, his own damn brother.

"Edward didn’t shoot him, Eugene. You heard Shelton, it was an accident. You want him sent down for that?”

Eugene is very much about to retort that right now he could give a shit who fired the fucking gun, to ask his father if he even noticed the mess of Snafu’s face or if he’s gonna claim that was an accident too but his father seems to read the lengthy, angry retort coming and grabs his shoulder to halt him. 

“You cannot stay here, Eugene. Not now that more people know, you will never hear the end of it."

Eugene bites down hard on his tongue, refusing to acknowledge it but his father is right. This is not how he and Snafu intended any of this to go. They at least needed some chance to prepare, for Eugene to pack and figure out how to approach his family about what’s happening. Never any of this. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Go home." Dr Sledge states. "Pack up some things. Go to my office, get gauze, get alcohol, bandages, there’s morphine in the cabinet. The safe behind the anatomy poster, open it up and take the brown paper bag. It should be enough for you to be able to situate yourself somewhere until you can land on your feet. I don’t see any other option here."

Eugene stares at his father's face. He looks so resigned, so uneasy, so scared. 

"What about mama?" Eugene asks.

"Don't talk to her, it'll only make it worse." Dr Sledge orders. "Go in through your window and make it fast. I'll be with her, I’ll get her through it."

"Papa." Eugene starts but he has no words to say to him. The last thing he’d ever have expected is for his father to agree with them leaving. Maybe if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t but even so, Eugene had anticipated that his father order him to make Snafu leave and never return, for good this time.

"I'll stay here with him." Dr Sledge promises. A hand on Eugene’s shoulder startled him back until he takes in his father’s words. "Go and get what you need. You two gotta be gone by mornin'."

Eugene's stomach flips but he nods his head, turns and walks straight out the doors. The moment he gets outside, his stomach lurches hard again and he buckles forward, bringing up little else but bile. He's back on his feet and racing towards his house before his stomach can have chance to settle. He doesn't care about that now.

He retches once more on the run home, bringing up nothing this time. His stomach has nothing left to give and he’s staggering forward before he has fully finished dry heaving.

The reality of everything that's happening is trying to crush him under its weight but he forces it back. He can't afford to dwell on it now. Theres no time to think, to breathe, to give pause to anything. Getting Snafu somewhere safe and away from questioning authority is the only thing he can allow himself to think about right now. 

He heaves himself up onto the canopy under his bedroom window and pauses to catch his breath. If he goes in like he is, they will hear him for sure. Once he can climb silently inside, he looks down at his hands. The blood has dried but it’s left his skin sticky and horrible, he should have washed them before leaving. It would be too risky to try to get to the bathroom and do that first though, as few movements as possible are his best chance of going unnoticed. He scrubs his hands down the thighs of his dungarees, hoping to scrape off any of the tacky dried blood and drags his suitcase from under his bed. He starts throwing in any clothes he can fit as well as his journals, textbooks, his pipe and any extras he can fit in quickly and quietly. He fastens it shut and slips it off the bed, placing it on the window seat to wait.

He creeps to his bedroom door and opens it a crack, listening intently to try and pinpoint the voices. They sound like they're coming from the living room and so, as quietly as he can manage, he steps softly down the stairs and slips into his father's study. Pulling back a diagram of the human skeleton, he turns the dial and clicks open the safe. Inside, his eyes land upon the brown back, quickly peering into it to see a decent wad of money before tucking it under his arm and locking the safe back up. He wishes he could refuse it, ignore it and close the safe back up without touching it but they’re going to struggle out there as it is, especially now with Snafu injured and likely needing more medical supplies once the stuff he can get from here runs out. He can’t say no in the name of pride or some need to convince his father he will land on his feet, not when it’s at Snafu’s risk, too.

He grabs the medical supplies his father listed and carefully sneaks his way back out towards his bedroom. As he reaches the top of the stairs, he almost runs into one of the servants who startles and almost drops the tray she’s carrying. He presses his finger to his lips, eyes piercing hers and she pauses, but then nods and carries on in her original direction. It doesn't matter anymore, Eugene will be gone before she could have the chance to say anything.

He stuffs the bag into his suitcase and heaves it through the window, only just able to fit it without a problem. He follows and soon he's trawling back towards the hospital, heaving his case along with him.

His father stands when he stumbles back through the hospital doors.

"Anyone see you?" He speaks first, looking down at Eugene's case. Eugene shakes his head. "A nurse came and spoke to me while you were gone. Shelton is stable, the bullet didn’t hit anything too important. He’s drowsy and weak but he will be alright."

Eugene knows his father is telling him this so he can relax a little and while it doesn’t make anything worse, it doesn’t do much to help. The words barely sink into him anyway.

“Eugene?” 

Eugene’s eyes stare off distantly but he nods in stunted understanding. 

“Here, sit down.” His father guides him to an empty seat, taking his case to bring it over for him. The waiting room is almost empty at this time but Eugene still shoves himself into a corner seat, feeling suffocated and trapped but also feeling like if he were to be given too much space, he might just burst out of his own chest. 

His father takes the seat next to him and stays silent for a while, whether because he doesn’t want to speak yet or because he just doesn’t know what to say, Eugene is not sure but he’s not eager to speak either. 

When he does finally speak, it’s to give instruction. “The nurses appear to be making rounds every thirty minutes or so,” he says. “That should be enough time to get him disconnected from everythin’, get him clothed an’ get him outside. If he can’t walk, there’s a wheelchair just over there but try not to, it might be too risky.”

His father falls silent again and just eyes him. Eugene plays that plan over quickly in his mind and nods without speaking.

“I will go to the car when the time comes and wait close by outside. I’ll drive you to the station but after that, you’ll be on your own.”

The words are heavy when they sink in and settle sickeningly on his chest. This is all too much at once, it’s like his mind won’t take it all in fully but he nods again when it feels right to.

An immeasurable mount of time later, Eugene starts to get fidgety and gets up from his seat, ignoring the way his father’s eyes snap up to look at him. He walks to the room where Snafu is and can see him through the glass in the door, various wires attached to his arms, connecting him to water drips and drugs. His destroyed clothes have been removed and his shoulder is freshly bandaged. Someone has wiped down most of the grime from his face and stitched his split lip. Apart from the cuts, bruises on his chin and jaw and some swelling on his upper cheek, his face looks a hell of a lot better than it did when Eugene first laid eyes on him, slumped at the edge of the creek.

Tears sting his eyes again and this time he knows he’s not going to be able to hold them back. He storms towards the rest room and locks it behind him. He pants over the sink and catches sight of himself in the mirror. Blood stains his clothes, dried on his hands and arms and is suddenly overwhelmed with the need to get it off him. The realisation of just _whose_ blood it is finally makes the tears spill and his back shake, his face contorts and he bows his head as he sobs to himself violently. 

“Snaf.” He whispers in a broken voice, dissolving into more sobs a moment later. He turns the hot water tap on and lets it heat up. When it’s just below scolding, he washes his arms down with the soap provided, trying to get every last mark from off his skin. His clothes are ruined, sticky and scuffed with patches of sweat, dirt and blood. No amount of scrubbing at his skin can help that so he forces his sobs to dwindle over the next few minutes, washes his face with cold water and grimaces at himself in the mirror. The skin around his eyes is red and blotchy but it will be a while before that fades and he doesn’t have the patience to wait. He leaves the room to grab his case, once again ignoring the look he receives from his father and returns to the rest room to change his clothes. 

All of this, everything they’ve faced, all for falling in love in a way the world says is wrong.

And now that he can think a little easier, his mind replays the moment he walked into his home to find his beaten brother. He was pleading with his father, he can’t recall the words clearly enough to know what he was actually saying but he was asking for his help, that’s for sure. He was scared. Anger puffs Eugene’s chest out. _Good,_ he thinks. He hopes he’s fucking traumatised. He deflates weakly when his mind forces him to admit to himself that’s not true. He may never speak to his brother again, there is no possible way he can see to come back from what he did. Hell, he may never return to mobile again. Nothing is certain anymore and this is his reality now.

Cleaning up and changing his clothes leaves him feeling fresher but not at all better. When he returns to the waiting area and sits down, he doesn’t say a word to his father, despite feeling his eyes on him from the moment he stepped back in to the waiting room. He can’t even bring his mind to fully process what has happened in the last few hours, what’s happening now or even what’s coming in his near future. He’s so completely exhausted. His mind is blank and right now he likes it that way, he feels numb. He leans his head against the wall to his side, closes his eyes and feels himself disappear for a while.

Slowly, the hospital staff dwindle to the late night shift and once they get deeper into the early hours of the morning, it’s just a couple of nurses doing rounds on all of the patients. His father lays a hand on his shoulder, startling him back into his head. 

“Watch carefully, after the nurse next checks on him, it’ll be time. I’ll be in the car, move quickly once your chance comes and do not be seen.” His father grips his shoulder tighter for a moment, like he wants to speak but thinks better of it before standing up with a small clear of his throat, picking up Eugene’s case and making his way out from the waiting room, disappearing from Eugene’s view. 

Eugene stares around dumbly, waiting for the nurses to do their next check on Snafu. The moment takes an age to arrive but also somehow feels like it’s raced towards him. Knee bouncing, hands clenching the material of his dungarees, he watches them walk into Snafu’s room and waits. He only hopes that Snafu is in good enough condition to move now that they’ve fixed him up. Eugene’s mind drifts to the image of him when he found him, he’d been so scared for a moment. Those few seconds believing that he could dead, something he never wants to experience again for as long as he lives. He couldn’t take it.

And how much use he’d been, panicking and flustering around while Snafu appeared more calm than he had. And god, he’s fought in war, he’s seen and treated injuries that people couldn’t even think up in their deepest horrors, perfectly able to function. But when it was Snafu, he was fully compromised, blinded by his own fear and desperation to see him alright again. The only word that rolls around in his head is weak. Weak and useless and the guilt of it makes his stomach burn.

Eugene almost starts when the nurses exit Snafu’s room and he has to force his mind into focus and sit himself to sit back to wait until they’re in the next room before he makes a move. He closes his eyes in a short silent prayer and stands up.

His eyes land on Snafu the moment he enters the room and even though he’s already seen him, even all cleaned up as he is, it still makes Eugene shiver to see him like this again.

“Oh god, Snaf.”

Snafu’s eyes blink open heavily. Eugene wants to launch at him, to smother him and hold him and promise that nothing bad will ever happen to him again. He doesn’t but he does step closer and speaks to him in a hushed voice.

“Snaf...You’re awake.” 

Snafu nods faintly. Eugene feels his heart swoop. He doesn’t want to rush into action but he’s aware they won’t have long. He approaches and gently takes Snafu’s hand.

“We can’t stay here, Snaf. It ain’t safe, we gotta go.”

“Told’ya s’was a bad idea,” Snafu mumbles sleepily, squeezing Eugene’s hand in return and lifts his head, indicating an intention to try and get up. 

“You gonna be able to walk?”

Snafu nods as he looks down over his own bare torso. He starts tugging at the drip wire attached to the back of his hand.

“Hold on,” Eugene says and takes Snafu’s hand before he can yank it. He tenderly peels back the tape and removes the needle, internally cringing at the thought of carelessly ripping it out. Eugene checks Snafu over for any other wires and finds one leading under his covers. He pulls them back to expose Snafu’s waist and finds just where the wire leads. This earns him a worried look and a curse from Snafu. 

“Don’t wanna tear this one out so quick?” It’s a poor attempt at humour and Snafu doesn’t respond in kind. “Alright, hold real still for me.”

Snafu gives him an incredulous look as if he’s about to refuse to let him remove it but it’s not like they have another choice here. He takes Snafu into hand very carefully, seeing Snafu’s abdomen visibly tense and as slowly as he can, he pulls at the catheter tube until it gives and starts sliding out, whispering his apology when Snafu pulls a face and curses again at the sensation of it. Once it’s out, Snafu let’s out a breath that can’t quite be described as relief. He tries to twist and drag his legs out of the bed but Eugene halts him again. The morphine in his system will be shielding his pain but they must be careful, if he moves too fast and tears his stitches or starts bleeding again, they’re done for. He gently helps Snafu to his feet, holding him as he sways through the dizziness for a few seconds. His dungarees are hanging over the back of a chair and with a little patience, Eugene is able to help him into them but his shirt was cut off him so his chest remains bare. Eugene tugs off his own jacket and tenderly places it over Snafu’s shoulders. There’s no way they could make it out unnoticed with Snafu half naked.

“It’s not far.” Eugene says, more to himself than anything. He can hold Snafu steady. They can do this, he just has to get him to the car. Just get to the car and they will be okay.

It’s a hard journey. He knows he doesn’t have long before the nurses will be coming out of the room, walking past. If they spot him, no way will they allow him to leave with Snafu as he is. They walk in a manner that is little better than a hobble, Eugene trying not to appear to be helping Snafu too much for fear of drawing attention. There’s no one especially close by and anyone who can see them, doesn’t seem to notice anything is out of the ordinary, despite Snafu’s bare feet and unsteady walk.

The air is cool as Eugene shoves the door to get them outside. His father is easy enough to spot, there’s not many people out here and he’s positioned the car close enough to reach in not too many steps.

“Almost there.” Eugene assures Snafu when he grits his teeth and falters a little. “It’s gonna be okay.”

His father spots them just before they reach the car and jumps out to aid Eugene in getting Snafu into the back seat. He slumps but swats Eugene’s hands away when he tries to help shift him into a better position. He doesn’t appear to be in much pain, mostly just weak but the drugs in his system will be seeing to that and Eugene can’t help worrying regardless. He checks the bandages again and the gauze is still clean, he hasn’t bled through. _He’s alright, he’s alright._

Eugene slides in and next to Snafu, offering his weight to lean on which Snafu accepts, tilting his head to rest against Eugene’s shoulder and closing his eyes. His hands are trembling and he looks so frail and almost old in this moment. Eugene has never once perceived Snafu as weak, even for a moment, even now with how he’s pulling through everything that’s happening to him and still trying to remain his stubborn self through it. But seeing him like this is so wrong, Eugene can’t stand it. 

He has no idea how they’re supposed to make this work, going to a place where they have nowhere to live, no secure work. Snafu won’t be able to work for a while at least and while Eugene can try to find something quick, they will have to live carefully with the money his father has given him and whatever Snafu scored for them teeth until they can figure things out. There’s so much to figure out, so much that can go wrong and no time to be able to set anything up first.

The station is quiet at this time of night and the next train isn’t for another hour but there’s a small cafe that’s open at all hours. His father stands by Snafu, who remains seated on the edge of the back seat, feet hanging out of the car with the door left open. Eugene goes inside to get their tickets and grabs his father and himself some coffee which he necks in a few gulps, wincing as it burns his throat but it does the trick and brings his alertness back up to speed. As he walks slowly back, he can see his father’s mouth moving and Snafu nodding but they’ve both fallen silent by the time he returns. He pushes curiosity for what they were talking about away to offer Snafu some water and hold it for him to sip at slowly. There’s a strange feeling in the air that seems to be emanating between his father and Snafu but if either of them recognise the questioning look on his face, neither of them do anything to respond to it, though Snafu does give him a small smile that he can’t quite read.

Eugene pulls his case from the trunk of the car to bring around. The time is creeping closer and closer and amping up Eugene’s nerves with it, so deep in his own mind that he doesn’t hear his father speak and jumps when a hand touches his shoulder.

“Here,” his father sighs, holding out his other hand. Eugene looks down and takes the object. Snafu’s wallet. He must have pulled it back out from under the seat. 

“Why...” Eugene starts, turning the wallet over in his hands to have something to look at other than the man in front of him.

“Couldn’t tell ‘em he’s been mugged an’ leave his wallet in his pocket now, could I?” Theres no humour in his words but his voice is soft. “Didn’t really need to hide it under the seat but y’know I’ve always been excessive when it comes to protect...” he falters when his voice cracks, swallowing. “Protectin’ you boys.”

"Papa." Eugene croaks, shaking his head, biting back the new tears which threaten to fall. He’s almost surprised he even has any left at this point. "I never wanted it to...I never wanted it to be like this."

His father's voice wobbles again when he speaks. "I'm sorry that this is the path you have been given, Eugene..." He trails off, as though even he doesn't want to get into it anymore. Eugene feels glad of that at least. There’s no point in dwelling in what they wanted or wished before when it can never be like that now. “Just write to us when you get yourself settled." He requests instead. "Just to let us know you're safe."

Eugene nods sadly and he sees the tears build up in his eyes. His father places the hand back on his shoulder and time freezes for a moment while they look at each other. Eugene’s eyes follow the tremble in his lip and then his father sniffs and turns his head away, releasing his shoulder. Snafu is leaning his good shoulder into the back of the chair, his eyes closed. Eugene doesn’t know if he’s really dozing or just removing himself from this semi-private moment as much as he physically can like this. He appreciates it either way.

It’s not much longer before their train pulls into the station, loud and slow, boldly announcing its presence in the fashion of a trial sentence. It’s heavy and damning but here it is. 

Before Eugene can do a thing, his father is tugging him into his arms and holding him tight. He stiffens for just seconds before wrapping his arms around him and burying his face against his shoulder.

“Don’t you forget to write,” his father says. “Write soon and write often, don’t keep us out. You know we love you, son.”

“I know,” Eugene murmurs against his shoulder. “I will, I promise.”

He has to pry himself away so he can have time to get themselves onto the train but he does spare his father a last lingering look. There’s so much in his father’s teary eyes, so much more he wants to say but can’t. It’s okay though, there is not enough time in the world and Eugene can see it all plain as day. He hopes his father can see it in his eyes, too.

“Alright, best get yourselves on ‘fore it leaves without you,” 

Eugene nods and turns to touch the side of Snafu’s face until he opens his eyes. Snafu lets Eugene help him to his feet. What Eugene didn’t quite expect is for, the moment Snafu steadies himself on his feet, his father to hold out his hand to him. Eugene freezes and stares while Snafu glances between Dr Sledge and the outstretched hand until Eugene thinks he’s not going to take it but then Snafu’s eyes settle into his father’s and some seconds later, he’s taking the hand with a small nod.

Dr Sledge sniffs, releases Snafu’s hand, wishes them well once more, closes the back car door and climbs into the front seat ready to leave. With the last goodbyes over and no way to cling onto any part of his old life any longer, Eugene hoists his case into his one arm and gently guides Snafu to the open train door with his other, helping him onboard and quickly glancing back to see his father starting up the car. 

Eugene pushes Snafu towards a seat before moving to the end of the cart to pack away his case. When he returns, Snafu is leaning heavily against the window, staring out at nothing, his mouth a grim down-facing line.

“You hurtin’?” Eugene asks, taking a seat next to him. He touches Snafu’s forehead with the back of his fingers but Snafu pulls away from it and shakes his head.

“S’fine enough,” he murmurs, though the small wince betrays him as he shifts. “M’tired.”

“We’re gettin’ outta here, Snaf.” Eugene promises him again. “You jus’ get some rest, we’re gonna be okay.”

When the train hums into life and begins to move, Eugene’s heart jumps and he watches as they crawl past his hometown stop. He’s leaving behind so much. His home, his family, his childhood, what might have once been his future, his life. Everything is going to be different now. A sob trembles in his throat but he’s able to stop it’s escape, not enough that Snafu doesn’t hear it though. He slowly turns around to press the side of his head to Eugene’s shoulder and lays a hand on his arm.

“M’sorry,” Snafu whispers into Eugene’s neck. “M’sorry I showed up at ya house and fucked it all up.”

“Don’t be fuckin’ soft,” Eugene scoffs weakly and feels Snafu smile against his skin. “Only positive thing that comes out of this mess is you. N’you know I’d do it again just as long as I got you at the end of it.”

Snafu hums. “Me too.”

“It’s just gonna be you an’ me.” Eugene whispers to an increasingly drowsy Snafu, who starts to doze in and out of consciousness while Eugene keeps an eye on his bandages, looking for any sign of blood coming through the material. As the drugs slowly wear off, Snafu starts to squirm a bit, letting out small whines and grunts of pain. Eugene’s heart sinks and he tries to hush him gently, whispering promises of a future he can’t see into his ear. “Everythin’ is gonna be okay...just you an’ me, Snaf...we’re gonna be alright...s’all gonna be alright.”

And Eugene has no idea if this is true or not. Hell, he hopes to God it is. He closes his eyes and says a silent prayer. He offers anything, he promises anything _please God, just make sure Snafu is okay._ Just let them be okay. Help them find somewhere to be safe. They’ve seen enough harm for one lifetime. 

Is God listening? He doesn’t know. Will they truly be alright? He doesn’t know that either. But for now, they are together. For now, they have each other, they have a chance. And for now at least, that is enough.

 

 

***********

 

 

Aaaaaaaaaaand there we have it, the final conclusion of a fic that’s taken an entire YEAR to finish and post. I want to thank everyone who’s read and stuck with me from the start and to anyone who joined along the way, the fact you’re still here with me at the end of this mess of emotions is just amazing. Thank you so much for reading and commenting, I got a little shit at replying at the end there but I read and wept at every single one, I can promise you that.

Just before this is completely over, there is a reason I’m writing this note in here and not in the authors notes and that is because I did write an extra little scene that I really wanted to add but don’t feel it really fits the rest of the story, as it is from Snafu’s perspective but I’d still love for you to see it anyway, so please enjoy this (rough) bonus scene as an extra thanks for all the love you’ve given this fic.

 

 

 

***********

The continuous throb in his shoulder leaves him dizzy and nauseous, despite the drugs in his system. His eyes work hard to follow Eugene as he heads into the station to buy their tickets, to purchase their fresh start. A position Snafu pushed them into.

After all, he left Eugene on the train. He decided that’s where their story was going to end. But it was also him who couldn’t keep his resolve for barely a few weeks before he was stepping back on another train to bring him right back to Eugene. If he’d just left him well enough alone...

“How you holdin’ up?” Dr Sledge’s voice breaks him from his thoughts. Snafu eyes him for a moment.

“Why’re you doin’ all this?” Snafu asks warily, not answering the doctors question. “No way you’re alright with this.”

Dr Sledge sighs. “Well, you’re not wrong there.”

Snafu doesn’t speak. What else is there for him to say, anyway? He doesn’t know if Dr Sledge views him as the bad guy in all of this but he’s the piece of this whole ordeal that’s about to take his son away from him so there really isn’t much difference in the end. He drags his hand across the thigh of his dungarees. His fingers itch for a smoke but he can’t see that going down well with the doctor. His resolve holds out even less here though and a few seconds later, he’s leaning awkwardly to tug the packet from a side pocket and flicking open the packet to pluck a smoke into his mouth. He fumbles with a packet of matches, surprised by just how much every movement on his hand connects right up to his shoulder, causing a painful tugging sensation that makes him grimace.

Pale, gentle hands appear next to his own war roughened, dirt scuffed ones and slides the matches from his grip. Dr Sledge strikes the head of one match across the side of the packet and holds it so Snafu can lean forward a little to shove the end of his smoke into the flame. Dr Sledge shakes the match until the end only releases a thin trail of smoke where the flame had been. Snafu jerks his head in thanks and gets to breathing in the familiar substance, instantly feeling his nerves settle and his muscles relax with the very first exhale that comes out more like a sigh of relief. 

“I’m almost certain I can pinpoint the time when you started...sharin’ Eugene’s bed...” Dr Sledge trails off uneasily and Snafu only waits to see if he will continue, tension in the back of his neck that he has to take another puff of his smoke to try and ignore. “To maybe a couple o’ weeks after you turned up on our doorstep that night. Y’know how I know that?”

Snafu resists the urge to scoff. Outside of a blind guess that could have easily landed him an answer equally as accurate, it seems the doctor has an actual reason behind it. So Snafu still says nothing and continues to eye him.

“Eugene returned home in fine physical condition, quiet but well enough in himself. That is, until he went to bed,” Dr Sledge says shaking his head, his eyes distant like he’s looking into the memories as he speaks. “He’d scream an’ cry somethin’ terrible sometimes, I’d have given anything to make it stop. I’m sure you’ve seen it for yourself.”

Snafu almost wants to touch his lip. It’s been split twice now over this summer and he remembers all too clearly how that first injury took place. Oh yes, he’s _more_ than seen the horrors that shook Eugene in his slumber.

“Well, not long after you started hangin’ around here, he stopped screamin’ at night. Not a sound, not a cry, nothin’. At first I thought he was just gettin’ better on his own. Until that day I walked in an’ you were...” He trails off again and Snafu is glad of it this time. He nods with a grimace and averts his eyes as his mind cruelly conjures up a sketch of what that scene must have looked like to Dr Sledge. “Yeah...well...once you left, the screamin’ started all over again an’ from that night, the moment I heard him start up again, I knew.”

This...is not where Snafu thought this was going to go at all. He hadn’t even expected Dr Sledge to talk to him, was sure he must hate his guts right now.

“He, uh,” Snafu mumbles, feeling like speaking is somehow cracking open everything he and Eugene worked hard to conceal all this time, despite the fact his father knows anyway. Vocalising it confirms it on another level and the sensation of willingly allowing that to be is too strange. “He helped me too.”

Dr Sledge smiles to himself. “I don’t doubt he did,” he says. “He’s always been a sweet boy, always such a kind soul.”

Okay, Snafu felt strange before but it is nothing compared to the sudden shift that happens then. The realisation of the one common factor between himself and the doctor. One factor that out rules every possible force driving them apart from each other, that connects them in a way that will forever remain stronger than anything else between them. Their love for Eugene.

And god, Snafu almost laughs. It must be the drugs in his system, they’re making him soft and sentimental but it’s true. Dr Sledge loves his son more than anything in the whole world and would do anything to keep him safe, including all this, watching his own family fall apart because he’s seen for himself, the best move he can make for Eugene. Now he can see that Snafu loves him just as much and that he’d do anything to protect him and make him happy.

Eugene comes out of the door just as Snafu snuffs out the butt of his smoke and tosses it to the ground. Snafu accepts the water he brings him and leans against the back seat of the car, closing his eyes to rest them while Eugene and his father speaks. He can hear them but he doesn’t take much of it in, mind still lingering on the revelation of their unexpected and short little talk. He can’t be entirely certain but if Dr Sledge ever hated him, and Snafu is sure as shit that he probably did, he doesn’t think he does anymore. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, not that he’s sure why it would be a big deal to him, perhaps because he can feel that it would be important to Eugene. Regardless of what happens from here, he’s certain Eugene still wants his family in his life. And if it is at all possible for that to remain, then Snafu yearns for it to be doable, too.

Despite this conclusion, the last thing Snafu expects to see when the train arrives, is Dr Sledge’s hand extended to him. So unexpected that he only stares it for an uncomfortably long pause. Dr Sledge does not withdraw the hand though and there’s a determination in his eyes that Snafu almost feels he couldn’t have ignored, even if he’d really wanted to. And when he takes that hand, those kind old eyes bore into his own and all he can see is a question, the doctor silently asking him to make a promise to him. And in Snafu’s eyes he accepts, he makes that silent promise with a faint quirk of his lips and a twitch of his brow and is that the beginning of a smile he sees on the doctors face? If it is, it’s gone in the next second and then the hand in his own is gone too and he’s being lead to the train.

And here they are, together and back on another fucking train. And this isn’t the end. No, this is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much hope you enjoyed this story and where it went, do let me know what you thought, comments give me life!!
> 
> The next Sledgefu story I shall be working on, as I have mentioned a couple of times on [my tumblr](http://scrapeourshoesonthestars.tumblr.com) is a story which will be exploring my own dynamic with them in a Dom/Sub kind of relationship, so if that sounds interesting to you, then please do keep an eye out, it’s already in the works and I’m super excited to get this out there, too!!
> 
> A final huge huge huge shout out to the two best people in the world, Kay ([snafusheltoneyes](https://snafusheltoneyes.tumblr.com)) and Lea ([lilliputianmerriell](https://lilliputianmerriell.tumblr.com)) for listening to a whole years worth of rambling and complaining about all my fic struggles and helping me get my shit together and actually finish this thing, I swear it wouldn’t be completed without them, I owe them so much!!


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